Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal
by Anyankaholic
Summary: Buffy finds out she is an Immortal and meets Duncan and crew. Accepting her new life is easy, it is the old one that is giving her trouble.
1. Saying Goodbye

Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Saying Goodbye *

"Well, I have plane tickets for everyone," Giles informed the group. Nearly everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their heads to look at him. Willow and Kennedy stopped kissing but remained cuddling on one end of the couch in the lobby of the Hyperion. Xander, who was slumped at the other end of the couch, hit the pause button on his game-boy. Andrew, who had been leaning on the back of the couch watching Xander play Zelda, straightened his body. Rhona and Vi stopped sparring on the far end of the lobby and lowered their swords. Robin stopped critiquing Rhona and Vi. Dawn closed the book she was reading on her finger to keep the place.

The only two people who did not stop what they were doing or look up at Giles were sitting at the base of the stairs. Buffy and Faith, though they heard his announcement, continued thumb wrestling.

"It's about time," said Xander with a sigh. "I was getting a little of tired of Deadboy's hotel."

"But it was nice of him to let us stay here," chided Willow, shooting a reproachful look at Xander. Despite being grateful to Angel, Willow was just as ready as Xander to get out of here. Everyone was. It had been two weeks since Sunnydale's collapse and they were all anxious to leave the surrounding area and move on with their lives.

"So, where are we going?" asked Dawn quietly.

"Well, I thought we would go to London," answered Giles. "From there we can rebuilt the Council, to our specifications, of course. Although the headquarters are no longer there, the Council did own numerous other—smaller—buildings in London. Those are open to our use as the Council's remaining funds should be.

"Willow," Giles continued, "I need you to get on a computer once we land and transfer complete control of funds to us."

"No problem," assured the redheaded Wiccan, giving him a brief smile.

"When do we leave?" asked Andrew. And, after further thought he tacked on, "I am invited, right?"

"Yes," responded Giles, "I booked a ticket for you as well. The plane leaves in five hours. We should all get packed."

It was only then, as everyone headed towards the stairs to go to their rooms and pack, that they noticed Buffy and Faith still thumb wrestling.

"Are you guys going to pack, or what?" asked Xander with a smirk on his face.

"Can't you see we're deep in battle here?" responded Faith, with a question of her own. "I ain't gonna lose 'cause my clothes don't know how to pack themselves."

"I'll pack your things for you," Robin told the dark-haired slayer.

"Thanks," she responded, without taking her eyes of Buffy or their clasped hands.

"Do you want me to pack your things for you?" Dawn asked her older sister.

"No," replied Buffy curtly.

"Then, you should probably let Faith win and go pack yourself," cut in Xander.

"Ooh, I like that," said Faith, with a wolfish grin.

"No," repeated Buffy.

"What do you mean?" asked Willow with panic lacing her voice.

"I mean, I'm not packing and I'm not going," said Buffy evenly, still focusing on her match with Faith.

"You're staying here?" asked Xander.

"I don't know," said Buffy softly, "I just know that I am not going."

"Why?" asked Willow shrilly. "We need you to set up the new Council with us. We need you, Buffy."

"No," said Buffy, finally looking at them. "You want me, you don't need me. You guys can get along just fine without me."

Faith took advantage of Buffy's distraction to pin her thumb and win their match. "Re-match? Or are you scared?" she asked Buffy, laughing.

Willow shot Faith a warning look before responding to Buffy, "We do need you. You're the Slayer."

"Actually," Buffy said with a shrug, "Faith's the Slayer, and Rhona, Vi, and Kennedy are also slayers. And you have five more slayers upstairs. You don't need me."

"But you're our best friend, Buffy," choked out Willow, near tears. "We want you with us when we create the new Council."

"Well, you should have thought about that before you kicked me out of my house," said Buffy with an angry twang in her voice. "You made it perfectly clear that you don't want me anymore. You have Faith and the others now. I came back. I helped defeat the First. I'm done now. I'm done being the Slayer. I need to just be a girl. I need to be Buffy Anne Summers: young woman, blonde, college dropout, un-Slayer. Right there is the problem," Buffy continued, looking down at her hands, "those are the only descriptions I can come up with for myself. I don't know who I am outside of the Slayer and it's time I found out. I just need time on my own to think everything through and decide where I belong and who I should be when I get there."

"Buffy, we already explained why we asked you to leave," interjected Xander, his voice taking on a plaintive and whiny quality.

"See, there are two things wrong with what you just said" said Buffy, giving him a stony glare. "First, you didn't 'ask' me to leave, you told me to leave. You didn't give me a choice. Second, you 'explained' but you never apologized. I haven't been your friend for a long time now. I've just been a weapon, a general, a champion, the Slayer—not Buffy. It's time I became that again.

"But, what about me?" asked Dawn, tears streaming down her face.

"They'll take care of you, Dawnie," said Buffy, her voice softening as she spoke to her little sister, the girl she had died for.

"We need to discuss this," said Giles, sending his charge a scathing glare.

"Yeah, and that's our cue to leave," said Rhona, grabbing Vi and Kennedy. Kennedy tried to remain with the others but Robin and Andrew grabbed her and forced her up the stairs with them. After they left, the only ones who remained were an angry Xander, a crying Dawn, a hurt Willow, a disappointed Giles, a nonchalant Faith, and a tired Buffy.

"Buffy, we have been through this before," Giles told her. "You cannot simply run away from your duties. We may have an abundance of slayers now, but none of them have you experience or your fortitude. If we want to make a reformed Council—a strong Council—we are going to need everyone's help."

"Just leave her alone," said Faith, standing up. Although her voice remained even and calm, her stance was vaguely threatening and predatory. Her muscles were tense, as if ready for a fight. "She needs some time along to think. I get it. I got it. I got it back in prison—a lot of room for thinking there. B just needs to chill on her own a bit."

"You don't get it, Faith," admonished Xander, shaking his head emphatically.

"No, you don't get it," said Faith, finally allowing her voice to rise. "None of you get B. I don't even get B, but I get her a hell of a lot better than you. None of you can understand what it means to be Called, to be the Slayer. It ain't no walk in the park. So just back off and leave her alone. It's her choice if she goes or not."

"We can make her go," said Willow quietly with averted eyes.

"You do that and you're just like the other Council," said Faith, remembering the three-man extraction team that had been sent after her from England.

"Thanks, Faith," said Buffy standing up. As she embraced the other slayer, she whispered into her ear, "thanks for getting me."

"Anytime, B," said Faith, hugging her back.

Buffy pulled away first and walked to the door of the Hyperion.

"Where are you going?" asked Dawn, shocked by her sister's behavior.

"For a walk," said Buffy. Just before she walked out the door, she turned around and uttered a stilted "goodbye" before disappearing into the world outside.

Buffy walked down the street, letting the sun shine on her face. Normally this would create serenity in her but as she walked away, knowing they would be gone when she got back, Buffy thought over everything that had just happened. Had she been too harsh with them? They were really only children who had acted out of fear. That thought made Buffy halt and wonder when she had begun to think of Xander and Willow as children; she was younger than both of them. She continued walking and thought about her sister. She loved Dawn and would always love Dawn, but love just wasn't enough. She needed more. She needed understanding and she knew she would not get that from Dawn. When she thought of Giles, she could feel a sob rising in her chest. She had once trusted him completely and even thought of him as a father but in the last few months, she had seen a different side of him. She had always wondered how a man as good and kind as Giles could work for the Council in the first place—now she knew, he was just like them. He would do whatever he thought was _necessary_, regardless of what the consequences might be.

She smiled when she thought of Faith. Who would have thought that she and Faith would ever end up so close? Even before Faith had begun to work for the mayor, Buffy hadn't been very fond of her. She simply thought of Faith as an annoying little sister, and she already had one of those. But, as time went on, Faith's role in her life changed. The annoying little sister became her enemy and then she became her sister again, but this time, the sister was not annoying and not little, she was equal.

Buffy's musings were interrupted when she suddenly felt something she had never felt before. She doubled over, grabbing her head, unsure of what the odd vibration in her head could mean. There was a buzzing in her ears that was so loud; she couldn't focus on anything else. She staggered into an alley with her eyes squeezed shut willing the feeling to stop.

As it began to subside she heard someone behind her declare in a loud, masculine voice, "My name is Peter Wilson, and I challenge you. Draw your sword!"

* TBC *

Please review if you liked it.


	2. The Challenge

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* The Challenge *

A look of pure confusion made itself at home on Buffy's face. Did this guy just tell her to draw her sword? What sword? As Buffy was trying to comprehend the situation, Peter Wilson advanced slowly towards her, his sword raised.

Although she did not want to fight anyone at the moment, Buffy was not all that concerned. Her opponent did not look like much of an adversary. He was taller than her, but that's not saying much. Peter Wilson appeared to be five foot five or so with a stocky build. He seemed solidly built and muscular but Buffy knew this could be used to her advantage. Years of fighting had taught her that sometimes the more muscular a being was, the slower it was. Buffy was sure that she could move more quickly and outmaneuver this man, no problem.

With a look of irritation, he called out, "Well, are you going to draw your sword or not?"

"Not," replied Buffy honestly. "I don't have a sword. Who carries a sword around L.A.?"

"I don't believe you," he said back, suddenly unsure of himself. "We all carry swords."

"Yeah, as much as I am enjoying this little argument," said Buffy, "I have to ask: Where do you think I am hiding this supposed sword? I'm wearing jeans and a blouse—form-fitting ones at that. Unlike you, I am not wearing a long, creepy trench coat. Which, by the way, looks wicked conspicuous. It's like ninety degrees out."

"So, you don't have a sword?" asked Wilson, still trying to wrap his mind around this turn of events. In his bewilderment he began to lower his sword. Buffy merely answered his question with a look that clearly said "duh" even without words.

"I don't care," stated her opponent. And with that, he lunged at her, sword raised and ready to strike.

Buffy rolled gracefully to one side and with the momentum he had gathered to lunge, Wilson could not stop in time and ran into the side of a dumpster. He regained his composure though and rose to his feet. Buffy was standing about five feet away from him, smirking at his failure. Rather than becoming angry, Wilson just focused on acquiring his prize—her quickening. He began to move towards her again, this time more slowly, surveying his surroundings and taking note of his foe's possible escape routes. His confidence grew as he noticed that the girl's eyes never left him to assess her surroundings. She simply stood up straight, staring at him. He could tell that she was untrained in martial arts because her stance was unlike any he had ever seen from an experienced opponent before.

He was wrong.

What Wilson didn't know was that Buffy had already assessed every aspect of the alley and knew it better than the back of her hand. And, while her body was not positioned in any sort of formal fighting stance, beneath her skin, every single muscle was taut and ready. She knew she had been right when she assessed that he wouldn't be very quick and although she recognized his body's stance as that of an established martial arts form, she knew that he was not an expert. His feet were slightly too far apart, which would make him easy to knock down. His left elbow was raised too high, which would make it easy to knock his sword from his grasp.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" he asked the girl that he merely saw as a short bottle-blonde. "It is customary."

"I'm not going to tell you my name," replied a disbelieving Buffy. "I don't just give out my name to random psychos who challenge me to swordfights. … Not that this happens that often … well, actually, more often than you would think."

Mistaking her rambling for ditzy-ness, Wilson attacked again with a sadistic grin. This time Buffy was forced to fall back to avoid his sword. As he raised his sword again, Buffy kicked him in the stomach using just a hint of her slayer strength. Wilson fell back with a grunt of pain and Buffy hoped he would take the hint and just stay down but the force of her blow only encouraged him as he imagined how strong her quickening must be.

Getting up again, he charged Buffy. Their fight continued in the same manner for a number of minutes. He would get in close and try to strike Buffy with his sword and she would either block the attempt by hitting his arms or avoid the blade by skipping out the way. She would then hit him, usually knocking him to the ground. Then, he would get up again to get in close. Buffy could swear she had broken some of his bones but he didn't seem to be slowed down by it. In fact, he did not seem to be injured at all, despite the obvious cracking noises that had sounded as his bones had snapped.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "The Terminator?"

He pretended as if he hadn't even heard her and lunged again. Buffy batted him to the side again, praying for what seemed like the hundredth time that he would just remain on the ground. For what seemed like the hundredth time, her prayer went unanswered. As he moved to attack her again, she felt that pressure in her skull return. The seeming vibration and buzzing made Buffy want to throw up but instead she pushed it all to the back of her throbbing mind and forced herself to focus on the man attacking her.

It was then that she saw her chance. Whatever she was feeling, he was feeling it too and he was not as successful at staying focused. He had momentarily forgotten about her and was whipping his head around from side to side as if searching for something.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Buffy kicked his wrist, sending his sword clanking to the ground. He turned back to her with a shocked expression on his face. Before he could focus on her again, he felt her fist smash into his face. His nose shattered, spraying blood onto his face and her hand. He lifted his hands up to his face, moaning. While his hands were occupied, Buffy reached down and grabbed his dropped sword. Kicking him in the leg, Buffy forced Wilson to his knees.

"Go ahead," he spluttered. "Take my head. You won."

Controlling her anger at the unprovoked attack, Buffy stepped back. "I don't kill humans," she said forcefully, quickly trying to push aside the images that invaded her mind of young girls lying murdered on the ground—girls she had sent into battle. No, she told herself, not girls, slayers, soldiers. Thinking the fight was finished, she turned to walk out the alleyway carrying her new sword, leaving behind the angry and bleeding man.

Just as she neared the alley's opening, a tall, good-looking man brushed past her. Turning quickly she saw the new man tackle Wilson, who had been standing alarmingly close to her with a dagger. The men grappled on the ground and Buffy just looked on, suddenly weary. She was tired of everything—fighting, protecting, defending, living. She realized how close she had just come to being killed. Back in Sunnydale, she never would have turned her back on an opponent like that, even if she thought she had won. In her emotional exhaustion, she was growing careless and it scared her.

Re-focusing on the men in front of her, Buffy was glad to see that the dark-haired man who had saved her life now had the dagger. The men were facing each other, each looking angry.

"You would dare attack a woman while her back was turned?" questioned Buffy's outraged rescuer with a slight accent that Buffy couldn't quite place. She couldn't tell if he was more offended by the sneak attack or by the gender difference.

"You shouldn't have interfered!" raged Wilson, whose nose had already healed. "It's against the rules!"

"As are sneak attacks," roared the pony-tailed man. "She is clearly new and knows nothing of our the Game or our ways. She wasn't even carrying a sword."

"That's not my problem," responded Wilson with a sneer. After further thought, he remarked, "But you are."

"Is that a challenge?" asked Buffy's rescuer.

"It is if the girl gives me back my sword," replied Wilson.

Both men turned to look at Buffy who gasped slightly. She had become so caught up in watching the two men argue, she had forgotten that she was an active member of the altercation as well, rather than just a curious and confused spectator. At a nod from her rescuer, Buffy tossed the sword to her former opponent.

Wilson caught the sword and turned back to the other man. "My name is Peter Wilson and I challenge you!" he said with anger in his voice and blood on his face.

Pulling a katana out from under the long, tan trench coat he wore, Buffy's rescuer responded, "I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod and I accept you challenge."

* TBC *

If you liked it, please review.


	3. Shocks All Around

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Shocks All Around *

Now Buffy was really confused. Apparently there wasn't just one man walking around L.A. with a sword—there were two. Buffy stood there, flabbergasted, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, she felt that she should break up the fight that had just begun in order to prevent any serious injuries but, on the other hand, she was kind of curious to see how the fight would proceed. She had already decided that these men were not entirely human. Peter Wilson had already recovered from all the wounds she had inflicted on him and the new guy, Duncan MacLeod, didn't even seem shocked by it.

She watched Wilson thrust forward with his blade and MacLeod block the attempt with his own. She had to admire MacLeod's abilities. He was clearly an expert swordsman and he moved with a grace that Buffy was unused to seeing. Usually when she fought with a sword, it was against demons that either didn't have swords of their own or that were relying on strength rather than skill. MacLeod had skill. Buffy could tell that he was mixing together several martial arts forms yet he transitioned between them with poise. Buffy was also admiring of his katana. Although she wasn't fond of swords, the Slayer in her had to be in awe of the Japanese blade and the way it seemed to cut the air as the Highlander swung it.

Suddenly, there was the sound of sirens. Both men stopped mid-battle, frozen in place and listening closely, trying to determine if the sirens were headed towards them. They were. Both men dropped their swords to their sides and put on insincere, nonchalant looks. They watched as an ambulance passed by the alley's opening, speeding towards some other destination. MacLeod breathed a sigh of relief and Wilson took advantage of the distraction. Leaping forward, he slashed his sword across MacLeod's chest, drawing blood. MacLeod staggered back but remained standing.

This had gone on long enough. Buffy was concerned for her rescuer and began to move forward to put a stop to it. A hand on her arm halted her. She whirled around, to see who had hold of her, silently berating herself for allowing the man to sneak up on her. He had unruly black hair and a sharp nose. His pale green eyes looked her up and down as if evaluating a possible threat. He eventually let go of her arm, leaving Buffy unsure as to whether he had decided she was a threat or not.

"Don't interfere," he told her. "Just watch."

Buffy turned back to the fight and subtly took a step back, making her shoulder to mid-arm with the newcomer. She did not want him where she couldn't see him. The tall, skinny man noticed this and smiled slightly. She may be new to immortality, but he could already tell that she was bright. Her unwillingness to let him out of her sight was a good sign that she would survive as an Immortal for quite a while. He had been worried when it had been so easy to sneak up on her.

"Shouldn't we do something?" Buffy asked the man, inadvertently revealing her comfort around violence by her even tone.

"No," he replied firmly, again contemplating the threat level this small woman warranted. "MacLeod will be just fine."

"And what about the other guy … Peter Wilson?" questioned Buffy, not really all that concerned for the other man. Although she was gazing at the fight in front of her, the newcomer could tell that she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, ready to respond in an instant should he try anything.

He decided to answer her question with another question, "Who challenged whom?"

"Wilson challenged your friend, MacLeod," said Buffy, stumbling slightly over the word "friend." While it seemed that the two men were linked somehow, the newcomer's lack of concern for MacLeod was startling.

"Then it's the wanker's own fault if something happens to him," he responded coolly. Buffy couldn't help but smile at the man's British accent and use of the word "wanker." He reminded her of a cuter and more laid-back Giles. A cute and more laid-back Giles that carried a sword, that is. G-d, she wondered, how many freaks were walking around L.A. with swords and why did they seem to be converging around her? Didn't they realize that wearing trench coats in this heat was just ridiculous? Extending his hand sideways the newcomer remembered his manners, "I'm Adam Pierson by the way. And you are?"

"Buffy Summers," she responded, shaking his hand, before even thinking about whether she really wanted to give her name to this total stranger.

"Buffy!" he guffawed, his laugh turning into a cough.

"Oh, and you're one to talk," replied Buffy passionately. "Your name's … actually completely normal. Damn."

Looking back at the fight, Adam saw that Duncan had now forced his opponent onto his knees, a mimic of the earlier fight when Buffy had been standing just where Duncan was now. Duncan raised his katana, preparing to behead Peter Wilson.

"No!" yelled Buffy, charging forward, unwilling to see any more death, not sure if she could handle it. But she was too late. Duncan's blade came down, efficiently severing Wilson's head from his body.

Buffy's hand flew to her face, covering her gaping mouth. Overcoming her shock, Buffy began to stride forward again, intent on taking MacLeod's blade from him but stopped when she saw tiny tendrils of blue lightning leaping and crackling over Wilson's lifeless body and Duncan's tense, but alive, body. She felt Adam grab her shoulders and pull her back to a safe distance. They crouched behind a dumpster and Buffy maneuvered herself so she could see what was going on.

The lightning had increased in intensity and was now extending all around the pair at the middle of it. Suddenly, a bolt shot right into MacLeod's chest, pushing him back. Although he remained standing, his knees were bent at what looked like a very uncomfortable angle and he was wavering. He shouted as more electricity entered him and began to shake. The bricks on either side of him were beginning to look scorched and Buffy was afraid that they would crumble. It seemed like the electricity was coming from the dead man's body. Wave after wave of energy slammed into Duncan. Buffy was unsure how much more the man could take.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, the focused lightning storm stopped. Duncan collapsed to his knees and leaned on his katana, using it to keep the rest of his body upright.

Buffy shrugged Adam's hands off of her and stood up, slowly approaching the exhausted man in the middle of the alley. As she came nearer, he looked up at her, seeing the shock on her face. Using his blade to steady himself, Duncan slowly rose to his feet.

"All right over there, MacLeod?" asked Adam, who had emerged from behind the dumpster as well, with a playful voice.

"Just fine, old man," replied Duncan, wincing slightly as his neck cracked.

Buffy just looked back and forth between the men, her brow furrowed and her mouth slightly open. "What the hell just happened?" she asked, drawing the attentions of both men back to herself.

"That's a bit involved," said Adam. "Maybe we should find somewhere quiet and less airy to discuss it."

* TBC *

If you liked it, please review.


	4. The Big Talk

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* The Big Talk *

Looking around the small hotel room, Buffy wondered how she had let herself get talked into following these two sword-carrying men back to their temporary abode. It reminded her of a funnily bad horror movie. The car-ride over had been fairly uncomfortable. They had spoken just enough to introduce themselves and then had decided to save any further conversation for when they could face each other.

"Would you like some tea? Or coffee, perhaps?" asked Adam trying to make the petite blonde feel more at ease.

"Coffee would be great," she responded, offering him a tiny smile.

Once she had her coffee, Buffy and the two men were just sitting rather awkwardly, as if no one wanted to be the first to speak. Never being one for silence or timidity, Buffy spoke first, "So, do you guys always carry swords to behead people with?"

"Yes," answered Adam at the exact instant Duncan said, "No."

Smiling into her cup, Buffy said, "You guys should really get your story straight."

Again, an awkward silence descended upon the trio. Buffy again broke it, "So, you guys aren't from L.A., right?"

"What makes you ask that?" responded Duncan with another question.

"Well," began Buffy. "One: you guys both have accents. Two: you rented a hotel room meaning you don't have a place here. And C … no, I mean three: you guys clearly didn't realize that wearing trench coats in L.A. in the summer just looks stupid."

"True," sighed Adam, with a small smile.

"So, what's the what?" asked Buffy, finally ready to just get right into it.

"Well, we're Immortals," said Duncan, watching Buffy's reaction carefully. He had been expecting fear, confusion, or even curiosity. He didn't get any of those.

"Okay," said Buffy nonchalantly. "And why does that give you the right to go about wacking people off?" The second the words had left her mouth, Buffy blushed and made to correct herself, "I mean, what gives you the right to kill people?"

Chuckling quietly, Adam responded, "It's all part of the Game."

Buffy's eyes seemed to focus and un-focus at the same time. While she seemed to stare straight through Adam, there was an intenseness in her gaze that hadn't been there before, a feral anger that made her eyes shine. She said very quietly then, forcing Duncan and Adam to lean in to hear her, "Killing isn't a game. Getting people killed isn't a game."

"No," replied Adam soothingly, "killing isn't a game. The fight we are in, however, is called _the Game_, whether that name is appropriate or not. Basically what happens is that one Immortal challenges another Immortal to fight to the death and the winning Immortal absorbs the other's life energies—what we call the quickening. Immortals tend to carry swords around because, well, one never knows when one will be challenged and one needs to be prepared."

Buffy's eyes returned to normal and she once again looked like a tired, twenty-something Californian. Looking at Adam, she asked, "I thought you said you were immortal, but then you said that you don't want to get killed? 'Splainy?"

Jumping in, Duncan told her, "We can live forever, never aging and never dying. Any wound we receive will heal almost instantly. There is only one way to kill us, and that is decapitation. As long as we avoid that, we're fine. I myself am about 400 years old."

"Oh," said Buffy, turning to Adam, "And how old are you?"

"Older than the Highlander over there," Adam responded.

Sensing that Adam had no desire to answer the question in more detail, Buffy moved on. She, after all, understood the desire to remain a secret. "So, let me get this straight," she said to them. "You guys go about beheading each other to get the other Immortal's 'quickening' even though, if you avoided fighting all together, you could live forever."

"Basically," said Duncan. "I mean, I did have a friend, who was murdered recently, that avoided fighting. He protected himself by living in a cathedral."

"So, Immortals are like vampires and don't like churches?" she asked.

"What? No," replied Duncan laughing. "First of all, vampires don't actually exist. Secondly, there are rules that each Immortal, no matter how good or evil, must follow. One of the rules is that there is no fighting on holy ground. That includes churches, mosques, synagogues, cemeteries … basically, any place that is considered holy by any group of people."

During Duncan's speech, Buffy had been watching Adam out of the corner of her eye. When Duncan declared that vampires didn't exist, Adam just rolled his eyes. Buffy noticed this and was glad to see that at least one of the Immortals knew the score. Turning her attention back to Duncan, Buffy asked, "Then how did your friend die?"

"He was killed by mortals," replied Duncan gravely.

"So, why are you telling me all of this?" asked Buffy.

"Because you're an Immortal too," replied Duncan.

"Am not," said Buffy.

"Are too," said Duncan before he could catch himself. Sighing, he continued, "You are an Immortal just like Adam and myself and you need to be trained so that some head-hunter doesn't get the best of you."

"What makes you think I'm like you," asked Buffy.

"Immortals can sense each other," answered Duncan. "We call it the buzz. When another Immortal approaches you, you'll feel a pressure in your head and a buzzing in your ears. At first, it will probably be painful, but you will soon get used to it and see it as the useful tool that it is."

Ignoring the fact that she had felt "the buzz" earlier, Buffy insisted disbelievingly, "I can't be an Immortal."

"Let me ask you a question," said Duncan, realizing he would have to work hard to convince her. "Have you ever been seriously hurt and then woken up completely fine and wondered why?"

"No," said Buffy petulantly, "when I get hurt, I'm hurt for, like, a while."

"Buffy," interjected Adam, "have you ever died?"

Just twice, thought Buffy. What she said though was "maybe." After looking at their skeptical faces, Buffy clarified, "I drowned but CPR brought me back." She decided not to disclose her second death—it was too weird.

"Look," said Duncan, "I'm willing to become your teacher. Every Immortal has a teacher at the beginning who teaches them the rules and how to fight. I did catch the end of your fight with Wilson, though, and you seem like you already know how to do that."

"I do," said Buffy, a look in her eyes warning Duncan off of pursuing it further.

"However," continued Duncan, "you need someone to help you adjust. Being an Immortal will change everything. You will never die, if I can help it, and that will take some getting used to."

"How long do I have to decide?" asked Buffy.

"Well, we're just in town for an antiques show," said Adam. "We leave to go back to Seacouver in two days."

"Seacouver?" asked Buffy. "Where's that?"

"Washington," clarified Adam.

"Look, Buffy, you're welcome to return with us," offered Duncan. "We can set you up with a place to stay and teach you what you need to know. You don't have to come with us, but you should really consider it. Every Immortal, no matter how skilled they are at fighting already, needs a teacher."

"I'll think about it," promised Buffy.

"Here's the hotel's number," said Duncan, handing Buffy a slip of paper. "Just let me know either way."

"Right," said Buffy, already halfway out the door.

X X X

When Buffy returned to the Hyperion, it was empty. She went upstairs and crawled into the covers on the squeaky bed in her room. Thinking over everything that had just happened, she couldn't help but wonder if it was so bad being an Immortal. She could go to Seacouver. She could let Duncan teach her. She could leave behind her old life. She could leave behind all the death and pain and responsibility.

But how could she be an Immortal? She had been dead and buried for three months. She spent three whole months as a rotting corpse. She was still a little fuzzy on the whole immortality thing, but she was pretty sure that Immortals didn't do that.

All she knew was that she didn't want to be the Slayer anymore, so why not be an Immortal.

She realized that she needed to know more. She couldn't just rush into this haphazardly; she needed to make an informed decision. She reached for the phone and began to dial Giles' mobile only to stop halfway. Hadn't she just told him and the others that she needed space? She couldn't just call him up now that she needed something. She was also still too angry. She may have been able to suppress her anger for the final battle in the Hellmouth, but when she thought of Giles now, all she could think of was his betrayal. He had left right after she came back from the dead, when she had needed him the most. He had tried to have Spike killed behind her back. Her Spike: whom she lost in the Hellmouth and who had turned out to be a champion and necessary player in defeating the First. He had stood by her friends instead of her when they kicked her out of her own home. He had ceased being her watcher long ago. Besides, he was probably on the plane right now.

So, Buffy dialed the only other number she could think of. The phone rang once, twice, and was picked up on the third ring.

"Hello, Wolfram & Hart, this is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."

* TBC *

If you enjoyed this chapter, tell me about it.


	5. Another Big Talk

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Another Big Talk *

"Hello, Wolfram & Hart, this is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."

Buffy's voice caught in her throat but she managed to speak on her second attempt. "Hey Wesley, what's up?" she asked, attempting to sound flippant.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" asked Wesley, concern evident in his voice.

"Nothing," lied Buffy. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you aren't on the plane," answered Wesley. "All the other Scoobies boarded a plane headed to England a couple of hours ago. I recognize the number you're calling from—you're still at the Hyperion."

"Guilty," joked Buffy, realizing after she said it how guilty she really did feel—about everything. "I just couldn't go with them," she elaborated. "Not after everything that has happened. I just need time to myself, to be alone with my thoughts."

"Buffy, please don't take this the wrong way," said Wesley. "But, why are you calling me then?"

"Because," started Buffy, unsure of how to continue, "I need a Watcher." Then, gathering courage, she said, "I need my Watcher."

"What about Giles?" asked Wesley.

Buffy smiled to herself. Just that simple question showed how much Wesley had changed over the years. When Buffy and Wesley had first met, he would never have asked about the Watcher he replaced. She had made him work so hard to even have his opinions heard and it was obvious how intimidated he had been by her relationship with Giles. Also, back then, he never would have referred to Giles by just his surname like everyone else did; he would have called him "Mr. Giles," ever the proper Englishman. Remembering that Wesley was still waiting for an answer, Buffy responded, "He hasn't been my Watcher in a long time."

"Neither have I," replied Wesley, and Buffy was sure he was smiling. "But I'll still help you in any way I can. What seems to be the problem?"

At that, Buffy just let the story take her over and she told Wesley everything that had happened. She told him about saying goodbye to the Scoobies and her fight with Peter Wilson and everything that had happened with Duncan and Adam. When she had finished talking, she found herself crying, unsure of why. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, willing it to slow down. When she finally stopped crying, she was shocked by the absolute silence.

"Um … Wesley, are you still there?" she asked uncertainly into the phone, hoping to G-d that they had not been disconnected. This was really not one of those stories she wanted to repeat too often; it was too emotionally draining.

"Yes," replied Wesley softly.

"So, what do you think?" she asked. "Should I trust these guys? I mean, how can I possibly be an Immortal? I certainly don't heal instantly. It took me a little more than a week to heal from my first fight with the Turok-han. Also, I died when I was sixteen—I have certainly aged since then. Haven't I? I think I look older. I think—

"—Buffy!" interrupted Wesley, cutting off her frantic babble. "Let's take this one step at a time."

"Sorry, Wes. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed," admitted Buffy.

"Let's start at the beginning," soothed Wesley. "As for how you became an Immortal, I don't believe it happened when you drowned six years ago. As you pointed out, you have certainly aged. That would mean that you became an Immortal after your second death."

"But I was dead for three months," interjected Buffy, interrupting Wesley's train of thought.

"In fact," he continued, ignoring Buffy's interruption entirely, "your immortality was probably triggered by Willow's resurrection spell rather than the death itself. Often such powerful magics that disrupt the natural flow of life can have some unforeseen side effects. Instead of just bringing you back the one time, Willow probably inadvertently made it so you could not die. Then, the universe, attempting to keep balance and make sense out of the nonsense, made you an Immortal to prevent a unique being from having too much power and being able to shift the balance of good and evil too far in either direction."

"But, I don't get why Willow's spell would have done this," muttered Buffy.

"Hmm," ruminated Wesley, "often spells or magics that regenerate dead tissue make the regenerated tissue stronger, harder to kill again. An example of this would be vampires and zombies, albeit a poor example. Willow's spell probably acted in a similar way that a spell to create zombies would, except it was more powerful. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," said Buffy, not sure if she did entirely. "And, Wesley, we really shouldn't keep calling it Willow's spell; Xander helped her." She didn't mention Anya or Tara though. She'd already failed them enough. That bullet had been meant for her, not Tara, and Anya should never have been in that final battle.

"Understood," said Wesley.

"It's good that you understand what's going on," joked Buffy, "because I'm still in the dark here. If I've been an Immortal for two years, how come I never noticed? I've gotten hurt and healed at an entirely normal speed … well, normal for the Slayer."

"Well, that is also explainable," said Wesley. "The energies of the Hellmouth wreak havoc on an Immortal's immune system. While an Immortal will still heal quickly on the Hellmouth, they will not heal as quickly as they should. A wound that would normally take a few minutes to heal could instead take a few days. Because you were already the Slayer, no one noticed any change in your regenerative capabilities."

Well, thought Buffy, this could explain how her immortality was able to slip under the radar for so long. It also explained why she was able to stand back up and continue fighting after being run through with a sword in that final battle with the First. The Hellmouth's energies had been going all wonky during that fight.

"I have another question," said Buffy apologetically.

"Shoot," said Wesley, and again Buffy was sure he was smiling.

"Well, how come I never ran into an Immortal in those two years?" she asked. "Even on the Hellmouth I would have felt the buzz, right?"

"The buzz?" questioned Wesley.

"Ooh, finally the Slayer knows something the Watcher doesn't," teased Buffy. After hearing Wesley chuckle in response, Buffy explained, "Duncan said that the buzz is what Immortals feel when others are around."

"Ah, yes," recovered Wesley. "You are correct in your assumption that the ability to sense other Immortals is not hampered by the Hellmouth's energies."

"I'm correct?" asked Buffy. "I said that? 'Cause that doesn't sound like me … it was all … verbal."

"I meant your general meaning, Buffy," laughed Wesley.

"Oh," said Buffy. "So, why didn't I sense them again?"

"It is highly probable that you never ran into another Immortal while you were in Sunnydale," explained Wesley. "Immortals would tend to avoid Hellmouths."

"Why?" prompted Buffy, even though she knew that Wesley would have continued unprompted.

"Firstly, for the reason I've already given you," said Wesley. "Immortals are worried that if they die on a Hellmouth, it will take too long for them regenerate and that by the time they do, they will be buried in a cemetery."

"I was buried in a cemetery," put in Buffy softly. "I dug my way out."

"I know," said Wesley, his voice heavy with emotion. He still could not believe that her friends had been so careless as to bring Buffy back to life and then leave her in her coffin. "You, however, had slayer-strength to help you escape, Immortals do not. The second reason is the matter of Holy Ground. Immortals don't like to fight on Holy Ground and it is damn near impossible to avoid it on a Hellmouth. While the demons spread out and conquer under the ground, above ground the humans turn to religion and build churches everywhere, not to mention, the several cemeteries to house the demons' victims."

"Why don't Immortals like to fight on Holy Ground? Duncan mentioned it but he said it was a rule," asked Buffy.

"In some ways it is," responded Wesley. "Immortals can fight on Holy Ground, they simply cannot win on Holy Ground. If an Immortal takes another's quickening while on Holy Ground, it will result in a dark quickening. Before you interrupt," said Wesley, beating Buffy to the punch, "a dark quickening is when a quickening is either absorbed in an evil or inappropriate place or when the loser of the challenge was himself evil. A dark quickening causes the victor of the challenge to become evil. You can still fight on Holy Ground, Buffy, you simply cannot kill another Immortal on it."

"Good to know," said Buffy. "I gotta ask, Wes, how do you know so much about  
Immortals? You aren't one, are you?"

"No, Buffy," replied Wesley, chuckling at her inanity. "As a Watcher, I was expected to know all about the other branch of the Watcher's Council."

"There's another branch!" yelled Buffy into the phone, immediately regretting it after hearing Wesley wince. "Sorry," she stage-whispered. Then, returning to her normal speaking voice, she said, "It's just that I hate being kept out of the loop. No one ever thought that maybe the Slayer should know about Immortals or that the Slayer should know about the people who are supposed to train her and teach her."

"I understand that you're angry, Buffy," soothed Wesley, "but there is a good reason that you were never told about the other branch. Each branch has nothing to do with the other. 'Branch' may not even be the right word. Not only did the Slayer-Watchers not work with the Immortal-Watchers, we never even spoke to them. There was a divide in the Council a long time ago and it has never been breached."

"What happened?" asked Buffy, always curious to know more about the Council that she sometimes credited with ruining her life.

"Well," began Wesley, "the Immortal-Watchers have a strict policy of non-interference. They observe and record what the Immortals do, and that is all. About 600 years ago, an Immortal went on a killing spree, killing seven Slayers in five months. When the Slayer-Watchers discovered that not only had an Immortal been doing this, but that his Watcher had known all along, they were understandably angry that the Watcher had not done anything to stop it. After that, the two branches of the Council split even further and, for all intents and purposes, became two entirely different groups."

"Wow," breathed Buffy, "I can see why the Council was so angry. That's awful. Wes, am I going to have to worry about these other Watchers now?"

"Probably not," he assured her. "As I already told you, they do not interfere. Although, there was an upset in their council a few years ago. They split into two groups and the one that is still in charge is rather mellow. You should be careful of the other group, though. They were radicals that believed Immortals were abominations that should be killed."

"Wow, Wes, you're really good at comforting the anxious, you know that?" teased Buffy.

"Sorry," he said. "But, like I said, the main group of Immortal-Watchers is fine. You can recognize both groups by the tattoos they have on their forearms. The tattoo looks like a misshapen 'v' in a circle that has dots around it. If you want, I can look into them further and if I find anything of consequence, I can let you know."

"Thank you so much, Wes," said Buffy. "I really appreciate all of this."

"Of course, Buffy. It is my job," said Wesley sincerely, glad to once again be of use to his Slayer whom he let down so badly in the past. "So, what are you going to do? Are you going to go with Duncan and become his student?"

"I really don't know," confided Buffy. "I need to just think all of this over. Whatever I decide, I'll let you know though."

"Thanks, Buffy," he said.

"Oh, and Wes, can you not tell Angel about this?" she asked, worriedly. "It's not that I don't want him to know, it's just that I need some time to think about this on my own without others weighing in. I need some time to come to terms with this, now that I have all the info, and … I just need time to rediscover who I am. I spent so long being the Slayer that I don't know who I am now that I'm not."

"Buffy, you'll always be the Slayer," said Wesley, worried by this turn of events.

"I hope not," said Buffy dejectedly. "Just, promise me you won't tell anyone."

"I promise, Buffy," said Wesley, whole-heartedly. "Goodbye and good luck."

"Thanks, Wes," replied Buffy, "and not-goodbye. I'll call you soon and let you know what I decide."

X X X

After mulling over everything that had happened for a little more than a day, Buffy finally reached a decision. She knew what she wanted to do. Reaching for the phone, she dialed Duncan's number from the scrap of paper he had given her. After her call was transferred to his room, she waited for him to pick up.

After the second ring, she heard his voice with the faded Scottish accent say, "Hello."

Just diving right in she said, "Hi, Duncan. It's Buffy. I'm in."

* TBC *

So, if you liked it, please review.


	6. The Other Watcher

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* The Other Watcher *

Buffy sat in the backseat of Duncan's convertible ruminating on the past two days. She had packed her things in a frenzy after calling Duncan. She found that after she had indeed made up her mind about her future, she was really excited to be leaving California to start her new life. Although she hadn't even known Duncan and Adam a full day, she instinctively felt that she could trust them.

Also, a few hours after she had gotten off of the phone with Wesley, he had shown up at the Hyperion. He had brought a file containing all the information he had been able to dredge up on Duncan MacLeod in that short time. According to Wesley's research, Duncan had formerly owned an antiques' shop, which would explain his interest in the antiques show, and he now owned a dojo. There were other tidbits in the file, which were either ambiguous or made Duncan seem like a decent guy. Nothing made it seem like he couldn't be trusted. The file also contained some old watcher reports on the Immortal, which Wesley had somehow managed to get. When Buffy asked how, Wesley kind of shrugged her off. At least now she knew that Duncan was a good person and could therefore make a good teacher.

The other thing Wesley had brought her was a ring. At first when she saw it, she was nonplussed. Why was Wesley giving her a boring old ring? It was a thin circle of gold with something written in Gaelic on the inside that fit neatly onto her index finger. It wasn't very girly and not usually something she would wear. She hadn't been truly appreciative of the gift until Wesley had explained that the Gaelic was actually a spell that would make Buffy magically untraceable. He had told her, "I figured that if you truly want some time to find yourself, it would help if others couldn't find you."

Until then, Buffy had nearly forgotten how nice it was to have someone do something for her, not expecting anything in return. Wesley had helped her merely because he cared for her, not because he was hoping that she would fight a battle for him or save him from some big ugly.

The plane ride earlier today had also been quite uneventful. It was a short trip and Buffy slept straight through it. While she was still in that realm between being awake and being asleep, however, Buffy heard Duncan comment to Adam, "I'm glad she's sleeping. She looks so tired—much too tired for a girl her age."

Now, though, Buffy was just uncomfortable. There was an awkward silence in the car as Duncan and Adam tried to decide what to say to her. Every time they tried to ask about her past, Buffy either changed the subject or gave a completely inane statement masquerading as an answer. She just wasn't ready to spill about her past. After reading Duncan's file, Buffy was scared that if Duncan knew about some of the horrible things she had done, he wouldn't want to be her teacher anymore. She didn't want him to kick her to the curb like the Scoobies had done.

Realizing that her past upset her, Duncan decided not to push the issue. He didn't want to drive this young Immortal away. Although he had just met her, he already cared for her as he did for all his previous students. Richie had been off traveling for some time now, and Duncan had been feeling a little useless; it felt good to have someone to teach and care for again. Duncan finally parked the car and got out, pushing his seat forward so Buffy could get out.

"Is this where you live?" asked Buffy confused. They were in downtown Seacouver and all she saw when she looked around were shops, restaurants, and bars. She didn't even see a dojo.

"No," replied Duncan, laughing. "We are at Joe's. It is a bar a friend of ours owns and I thought you might like to meet him. It is really too early to turn in for the night. You'll like him."

"Okay," said Buffy, still a little unsure. Just before they entered the bar, Buffy halted and asked, "Joe what?"

"Hmm," said Adam, leaning down to hear the short woman better.

"What is Joe's last name?" asked Buffy louder.

"Dawson," replied Adam, moving inside to join Duncan at the bar, where he was already talking to the man behind the counter, a man of medium height with short gray hair and an appealing confidence as he poured the men drinks.

Joe Dawson. Buffy had read that name in Duncan's abridged file; he was Duncan's watcher. She knew that Duncan knew, but she wondered if he would tell her. Buffy really didn't want to go meet the man. She knew that Wesley had assured her that the Immortal Watcher's Council was drastically different from the Slayer Watcher's Council but she was afraid that he would not be different enough. She was also afraid that he would know who she was. She wasn't ready for Duncan and Adam to know about her past yet and to know what she was. She silently corrected herself, thinking, what she _had been_. She wasn't the Slayer anymore. She was an Immortal now.

Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, Buffy walked purposefully over to the counter and took a seat next to Adam, having to nearly jump onto the stool due to her height.

"Wonderful," said Duncan, clapping his hands together heartily. "Joe, I'd like for you to meet my new student. This is Buffy Summers." Joe nearly dropped the liquor bottle he was holding and his mouth opened into an "o." Not noticing, Duncan turned to Buffy and said, "Joe knows about us. If you ever need anything and Adam or I aren't around, you can go to Joe and he'll help you."

"Did you say Buffy Summers?" croaked out Joe, his face turning red.

"Yeah," replied Duncan, turning back to Joe. Concerned by his friend and watcher's appearance, he asked, "Is everything alright? Do you two know each other?"

Seeing the glare Buffy shot him that clearly said "shut up" without actually using words, Joe backtracked, "No. No. I … um … just used to know someone named Buffy, an old girlfriend, real looker. But that was nearly thirty years ago."

Looking as if he didn't truly believe this cover story, Duncan decided not to press it further and to file it away for a later time.

"Ah," interjected Adam, to break the tension, "it looks like our table has opened up." With that he strode to the back of the bar and sat down in one of the booths.

"Are you coming, Buffy?" asked Duncan.

"Yeah, just a sec," she assured him, "I'm just going to get a drink first."

After curtly nodding his head and glancing between Buffy and Joe, Duncan followed Adam.

"I'll have a Diet Coke, please," said Buffy, turning Wesley's gift around her finger nervously. "I don't really like alcohol. Buffy and alcohol are too totally un-mixy things. Let's put it this way, I've had some bad experiences with it. Once I had a drink and almost got fed to a giant snake."

After forcing herself to cut off her nervous babbling, Buffy focused on Joe, "You do know, right?"

"I'm not sure," said Joe. "You are the Slayer, right? I mean, I know the Slayer's name is Buffy Summers but, are you her?"

"Yep," said Buffy, giving Joe a small wave. "I'm her. Please don't tell Adam or Duncan. I'm not ready for them to know yet. After being secret-identity girl for so long and absolutely hating it, it seems I'm really used to it. You know what they say, old habits die hard."

Again, Buffy silently cursed herself for rambling. It was like she couldn't just say what she needed to say and then stop, she always had to keep going. Luckily for her, Joe didn't look at her like she was an idiot; he just smiled. "Don't worry," he assured her while pouring her drink. "I promise not to tell them until you're ready, although I bet you have some great stories that could even give Adam a run for his money. I'd love to hear them sometime."

"Maybe," said Buffy, giving the older man a tight smile. Taking her drink, she went to sit down next to Duncan, relieved that Joe had been so understanding.

X X X

Later that night, Duncan took Buffy back to his apartment, where she would be staying until she found a place of her own.

Pointing her to the big leather couch, Duncan told her, "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, we're going to begin your training. Although you already know how to fight, there's always room for improvement."

As he left the room, Buffy yelled "goodnight" before letting sleep overtake her.

* TBC *

If you like it, please review.


	7. Flashes of Life

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Flashes of Life *

Buffy turned the sword over in her hands, examining it. The sword had a steel blade and a handle made of silver with a swirl pattern etched into it; it was well balanced despite the length of the blade and it felt light in her hands. Also, it was sharp, really sharp. She vaguely wondered if she should be using a duller blade for her first lesson with Duncan.

"Alright," said Duncan, drawing her attention to himself, "enough of that. Get into the position I showed you before. I'll start off easy on you."

Buffy assumed the proper stance for swordplay and held up her sword. When Duncan came at her, she made a half-assed attempt to block his katana. Although she fended off the attack, her lame response gave Duncan the upper hand and let him knock her down, bringing his blade perilously close to her neck.

"Come on, Buffy," he chided, "you aren't even trying. I saw you pull some moves in that alley so I know you are better than this."

Buffy got up with a sigh and assumed the fighting stance again. Again Duncan attacked her and again she let him best her. After fighting so hard for the past year to defeat the First and keep the others alive, she didn't feel like play-fighting.

"What is wrong with you?" asked Duncan, somewhat angry by Buffy's lackadaisical attitude.

"I don't really like swords," she responded, shrugging. She didn't tell him why she didn't like swords. Ever since her junior year of high school, swords had always reminded her of killing Angel to save the world. After everything she had gone through, that was still one of the most emotionally painful experiences she had ever undergone.

Completely misreading Buffy's answer, Duncan grinned. "Is that your way of telling me you're scared?" he taunted. "You didn't strike me as a chicken."

Buffy's head snapped up from its hangdog position and she reassumed her fighting stance. This time when Duncan attacked her, she blocked his advance effectively. Before Duncan even really knew what happened, Buffy had him kneeling on the ground with the blade of her sword cozying up to his neck. Duncan's eyes widened in wonder.

He had fought many people over the centuries and he had never been beaten so quickly except by his own teacher, Connor MacLeod, his kinsman. Although surprised by Buffy's skill and ferocity, he was pleased. This meant that she would be able to keep herself safe and that he could instead focus on teaching her what it meant to be an Immortal.

Stepping back and removing the blade from Duncan's throat, Buffy warned in a low voice, "Just because I don't want to use a sword, it doesn't mean I can't."

X X X

Nearly a week had passed since her first training session with Duncan and Buffy was slowly but surely settling into her new life. She still hadn't found an apartment, but that didn't bother her too much. A part of her liked living with Duncan—during the day. The only problem was the nightmares; sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night wracking with sobs. It was at these moments that she would think about how much she needed her own place because Duncan would rush to her side to soothe her. He always asked her what she had been dreaming about and she always just shrugged and gave a noncommittal answer like "frogs" or "footwear."

How could she tell Duncan that in her dreams, she always saw Amanda's body falling in battle, or Annabelle's mutilated figure, or Chloe's swollen and purple face?

As much as she liked hanging out with Duncan, Buffy just couldn't take the constant questioning look in his eyes whenever he saw her, like he was trying to assemble a Buffy-shaped puzzle. That was why Buffy was glad to just be sitting in Joe's bar with him right now. The bar was technically closed so it was just the two of them. Adam was off doing something with Duncan. They hadn't told her what they were doing and she hadn't asked.

Joe was asking Buffy random questions about being the Slayer and about the different kinds of demons she had killed. They were both working really hard to keep the conversation light. Whenever something would come up that Buffy wasn't ready or willing to discuss, Joe let her change the subject, merely happy to be hearing anything about her past battles. Although, he knew that Duncan admired Buffy's athleticism and fighting abilities, Joe knew that Duncan didn't respect Buffy as a warrior and it somewhat galled him.

Without any warning, Buffy just changed the subject, "So, tell me about Adam?"

"What about him?" he asked.

"Mainly, does he have a girlfriend?" asked Buffy. Although Buffy didn't really want to be drawn into another intense relationship so soon after Spike's death, she did want to continue dating. Adam was a lot of fun and she couldn't believe a relationship with him would be too intense.

Joe chuckled and asked, "Why? Do you like him?"

"Yeah," confided Buffy.

"Well," said Joe, clearly choosing his words carefully, "he doesn't have a girlfriend. But, I'm not sure he'd be right for you. For starters, you're 23 and he's 5,000."

"Wow, I didn't know that," breathed Buffy. Then getting her confidence back, she remarked, "Doesn't really matter. What's 5,000 to me? My first-ever real boyfriend is 276 now and my last boyfriend was 144. When you're talking about such large numbers, I'm like a five-year-old." Seeing that Joe didn't understand her simile, Buffy explained while rolling her eyes, "Five-year-olds think that everyone older than 20 is really old."

Joe laughed, saying, "Too true, too true."

X X X

Buffy laughed. Wesley was funny; how had she never realized it before? She liked talking to him because, even though she wanted to forget about all her past failures and disappointments, talking to Wesley helped her remember the good things about her past as well.

"On a more serious note," began Buffy, "how _are_ things going there? You know, at Wolfram & Hart?"

"Why, worried?" asked Wesley, all traces of laughter gone.

"A little," admitted Buffy. "I don't want any of you guys to get hurt." As Buffy said this, she thought about Angel. She couldn't bear to lose him again. For that matter, she couldn't bear losing Spike again either. She was glad that he was alive although she wasn't ready to call him yet. Obviously, she didn't want anything to happen to Wesley either; he had been her rock during all of this.

"Do you think we were wrong to do this?" asked Wesley, his voice sounding louder and more focused, a clear sign that he was now holding the phone very close to his mouth.

"No," replied Buffy. "It was a good decision. You can't always sit around waiting for the fight to come to you; sometimes you have to take the offensive."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," said Wesley, relaxing a bit. "The others don't agree with us."

"The others?" questioned Buffy.

"The Scoobies," responded Wesley, "or, I suppose I should say, the new Watcher's Council. They've cut off all of their ties to us."

Buffy was shocked and more than a little angry. "How dare they?" she raged. "How can they just judge you guys like that? Like I've never teamed up with evil to defeat a bigger evil? And, like they've never begun a confrontation? Hello! The final battle in the Hellmouth—we marched in and started that whole thing. How can they be so close-minded? Typical Scooby behavior! Always criticizing everyone else's choices but never stopping to examine their own."

Wesley remained silent during Buffy's little rant. It sounded like she had wanted to say these things for a while and Wesley would be damned if he would be the one to cut her off. It saddened him that Buffy was so angry with the people that had once been her lifeline. Attempting to lighten the conversation once Buffy had stopped, he prompted, "So, tell me about your new apartment."

Buffy launched into a description, describing every room, wall, floor, table, and whatever else she could think of. She had never lived by herself before, except for that one summer in L.A. and she didn't really want to count that. She found it so nice to be able to go home after training with Duncan and just be able to collapse into bed without anyone bothering her by asking if she was all right.

When the call ended, both Wesley and Buffy hung up their phones grinning and promising to speak again soon.

X X X

Duncan strained and grunted again, sweat pouring down his face. It was no use; there was no way he was going to be able to move this oak desk across the room. He had been attempting to rearrange the furniture for the past hour and had hit a wall when he came to the desk. It was simply too heavy. Backing away from the desk, Duncan leaned against the wall and let his exhausted body slide down to the floor.

Without any warning, he saw Buffy walk over to the desk, lean her shoulder against it, and push. He was about to laugh and tell her that it was no use when the desk began to move. He couldn't believe it. He knew that Buffy was strong but there was just no way. It had taken three large men to get it into his apartment, and here was a barely five foot tall blonde moving the desk like it was nothing.

Pushing himself off of the ground, Duncan inquired loudly, "How the hell did you do that?"

Buffy turned around slowly with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. She had forgotten that Duncan didn't know about her Slayer strength. "What can I say? I always eat my veggies," she joked before running out of the apartment, staving off any further questions.

Duncan didn't know how she had done that, but he knew she was hiding something and he really wanted to know what that something was.

X X X

Sitting on her couch, legs folded up underneath her, Buffy was watching some Bollywood film. She just wasn't getting the same enjoyment out of it as she had when watching such films with Willow and Xander back in Sunnydale. Just about ready to flip to another channel, Buffy heard a knock at her door.

Opening the door, Buffy saw a FedEx deliveryman holding a rather large package. "Are you Buffy Summers?" he asked.

"Yep," she said, hoping to G-d that it was shoes. After signing for the package and settling back onto the couch, she opened up the box. She pulled out a shining glaive made entirely of steel. There was an inscription in the handle that read, "_Semper tutricis, semper protegitur_." Buffy hefted the weapon and smiled at how it felt in her hand, which was perfect and as if it belonged.

Glancing back in the box, Buffy saw the note. It read: "_Dear Buffy, I hope this glaive finds you well. On the phone you mentioned your dislike of swords so I decided you needed a weapon that would fit you. I wish you the best of luck. Your friend, Wesley. P.S. – The inscription is in Latin. It means, 'Always a protector, always protected.'_"

Smiling, Buffy tucked the note into a book for safekeeping and began swishing her shiny new toy around.

X X X

Buffy hated the feeling she got when she knew others were talking about her. She was sitting in the booth that Duncan and Adam, or Methos as she now knew his name to be, liked to frequent and Adam was standing at the bar conversing with Joe. They both kept glancing at her. She just stared at them to let them know that they weren't fooling anyone when they would hastily look away. Moments like these always reminded her of high school. After her one day of being able to read people's minds, she had become really paranoid when people discussed her. She couldn't help but always think that they wanted to have sex with her.

Finally Adam came over to her. "Ready to stop ignoring me?" she asked, pouting.

"Yeah," said Adam, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. Sitting down, he continued, "We've known each other for about a month now and I was wondering if youwantedtogotoaplaywithme?"

"What?" asked Buffy, unable to make out the last part of his question due to the speed with which he had said it. She was pretty sure it was a question because his voice had gone up a bit at the end. Unfortunately, even with all the practice she had from talking to a highly-caffeinated Willow, she was at a loss.

Taking a deep breath, Adam tried again, this time speaking really slowly and enunciating each word, "I was wondering if you wanted to go to a play with me?"

"Sure," said Buffy, grinning so broadly that Adam was scared she would strain a muscle in her face. "Is this a date?"

"Yes?" asked Adam.

"Oh, yes!" answered Buffy.

X X X

"So, how was your date last night?" asked Duncan as he circled Buffy on the mat in the dojo. Duncan held his katana straight and steady while Buffy carelessly twirled her glaive. Duncan had long since learned not to dismiss Buffy's blasé behavior as a lack of focus. While he would never wave his weapon about so haphazardly, he recognized Buffy's style and appreciated it.

"Well," said Buffy thoughtfully, "I hated the play, loved Adam." Then she attacked. Duncan had stopped training her long ago—now they simply sparred. It was good practice for both of them. She was a skilled fighter and he often lost but as they sparred, he learned and he could feel himself improving. When he had first realized this, he had found it terribly funny that his student was teaching him when it should be the other way around. Then he remembered every crappy movie he had ever seen about a teacher inspiring a group of inner-city kids to excel despite the odds and learning something in the process and he finally understood it. He still hated those movies though.

After trouncing Duncan, Buffy continued, "We're going out again tonight. I really like him. Wanna go again?"

X X X

Buffy was furious. She and Adam had been dating for two months now and everything had been going fine until he had opened those yummy lips to say something really mean. As Buffy walked back to her apartment from Adam's, she pulled her coat closer around her body. Even at its coldest, Southern California had never been this cold and it wasn't even winter yet. She was going to die when winter arrived.

How dare he? Buffy had been so mad that when she stormed out of his apartment, she had slammed the door so hard, it had broke—literally. Buffy had paid him a compliment and he had spat in her face—not literally. She had told him how much she admired his brains and how she wished she could speak even half as many languages as he could. He actually had the nerve to tell her that she could be just as smart if she focused less on what she was wearing on her head and more on what was inside of it. She had been called a dumb blonde numerous times over the years, but to hear someone she cared about and who she thought cared about her say something like that, it really pissed her off.

As she passed a cemetery, she suddenly felt an uncontrollable desire to venture inside. It had been more than a month since she had patrolled and she hadn't been in a cemetery since she had stopped. Walking further inside, she immediately sensed the vampires. There were four of them, skulking between the graves, acting like they owned the place. Well, Buffy was angry and an angry Buffy was always bad news for vampires.

Striding toward them, Buffy pulled out her glaive, ready to work out some of her issues. Before the vampires were even aware of her approach, one of them was dead. The other three turned to her, anger filling their yellow eyes. All three rushed her at once and Buffy just reacted. She let the Slayer off of the figurative leash. Elbowing one in the face, she kicked another in the family jewels while punching the third in the throat. Within five minutes, the fight was over and Buffy stood victorious. She just stood there smiling, covered in the vampires' dust.

She had forgotten how good it felt to kill the undead creatures of the night. She felt a tension leave her body that she hadn't even been aware of before but which had been building slowly as she avoided slaying.

Her happiness was short-lived. Moments after she left the cemetery, she felt the buzz warning her that another Immortal was nearby. She spun around ready to chew Adam out for following her when she had made it perfectly clear that she didn't want to talk to him. Instead of Adam though, another Immortal stood in the cemetery, looking at her with a wolfish grin on his face. "No," whispered Buffy as she looked into a face she never thought she'd see again.

* TBC *

If you liked this, please let me know in a review.


	8. A Familiar Face

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* A Familiar Face *

"You're dead," Buffy told the man, gritting her teeth.

"As are you," he replied swiftly. "I suppose neither of us like to stay dead for very long though."

Buffy couldn't believe it. There, standing right in front of her was a man who had made her life a living hell. Quentin Travers, the former head of the Watcher's Council, had hurt her so many times. He had forced her to endure the _Cruciamentum_ on her eighteenth birthday and later that year refused to help her cure her boyfriend who had been poisoned. He had gotten in the way of helping Faith, causing her sister-slayer to go off the deep end. He had administered that ridiculous test to her; wasting time that she could have used rather than just telling her that Glory was a god. He had allowed watchers and slayers to be killed around the world without even informing her.

"You're an Immortal," she stated, hoping he would contradict her.

"Yes," he responded easily with his smug British accent, "and I've come for your head."

"Why?" asked Buffy softly.

"Why? Why!" he yelled back at her. "Because you destroyed me. You destroyed everything I worked so hard to build. I was in the Council headquarters when it blew up. Now everyone thinks I'm dead! I hadn't had the chance to transfer my funds beforehand. I am broke. You are a destroyer, Buffy Summers."

"No, I'm not," replied Buffy secretly agreeing with him. She had destroyed so many lives over the years—so many were dead because of her. She couldn't, however, feel pity for the man who stood before her. He deserved everything he'd gotten.

"Yes, you are," he replied coldly, regaining control over his temper. "You destroyed the Slayer line. You corrupted it. You should have stayed dead when you were sixteen. It was written. You should have let Kendra take over. She was a better Slayer, more obedient."

"Obedience isn't what makes a Slayer great," retorted Buffy. "It's passion and, although Kendra didn't show it often, she was a passionate person. That's what made her a great Slayer, not her obedience."

Sneering at her, Travers said, "Kendra would have been a _passionate_ Slayer for a few more years if it hadn't been for you. It was your boyfriend who had her killed."

"I know," said Buffy, blinking back tears. As much as she wished it weren't true, she felt responsible for the younger girl's death. Kendra had come to help her and had lost her life for it. Buffy would never forget Kendra's body lying on the floor of the library; she would never forget those unseeing brown eyes.

"Then you died again," he continued. "You should have stayed dead that time too. Instead you had the witch bring you back. Your selfishness created the imbalance that allowed the First access to our world. It is your fault that it was able to kill all those young, innocent girls."

"I know," repeated Buffy, feeling the tears flow freely down her face.

"And now," he went on, "the greatest affront to the Slayer line: you awakened all the Slayers. You destroyed the tradition of the Slayer. It is supposed to be 'one girl in all the world.' You ruined it."

Finally finding her voice, Buffy responded, "No, I made it better. 'One girl in all the world' was stupid. It wasn't working. The Slayer shouldn't have to be alone. That's why Slayers die so young—because they are alone. Not anymore. I helped those girls. They will never know the burden of fighting alone. I made them strong."

"You really think that, don't you?" mocked Travers. "You really think you helped them? Foolish girl. Most of those girls would have never had to fight if you hadn't given them slayer abilities. They would have been safe and free from that responsibility. You always said that being the Slayer ruined your life. Well, what about them? Do you think they're thankful? All you've done is ruin their lives. I doubt that knowing they are not alone is much of a comfort when they find out that they must now battle the forces of darkness, which will seek them out now, drawn to their slayer energies. You probably killed half those girls when you made them Slayers."

"The First was killing them," defended Buffy, feeling crushed and defeated.

"Yes, and now you are," he said. With that, Quentin Travers pulled out a sword and moved into proper fighting stance. "I challenge you, you bitch," he said.

Buffy considered not even drawing her glaive. It would be so easy to just give up. She had never even considered how many girls would die from becoming Slayers. She had been so preoccupied with winning at the time that she hadn't even considered it. As for afterwards, she had been too busy mourning the girls she had pushed into the battle in the Hellmouth, never thinking about the girls she had pushed into future battles.

"Well," said Travers impatiently. "Draw your sword."

That was when Buffy remembered that if Travers took her head, he would get her quickening and she did not want him to have her life's energy. "I don't have a sword," she retorted half-heartedly while drawing her glaive.

Without wasting any time, Travers rushed at her and Buffy raised her glaive, which she thought of as a wicked axe, in defense but not quickly enough. His sword bit into her arm. Buffy knew if she looked down, she would see blood and a lot of it; her arm hurt so badly. Forcing the pain to the back of her mind, Buffy remained focused on her opponent.

He attacked again and again Buffy wasn't quick enough to avoid his blade. She felt it slice across her stomach. She stumbled back in shock. What was wrong with her? She had been training with Duncan for nearly three months and she was usually much quicker than this.

As if reading her mind, Travers grinned and pulled a necklace out of his shirt. On the end of the length of string was tied a pinkish crystal which was glowing. "Wondering what happened to your slayer strength and speed?" he asked. "This crystal here, it makes this an even fight. It suppresses your slayer abilities. It makes you just like the rest of us."

Buffy was afraid. She could try and pretend that she knew enough about fighting to beat him anyway, but deep down she knew it wasn't true. Without her slayer abilities, she was just a short, weak girl. She backed away from him slowly with the smell of her own blood nearly overpowering her.

"Running away?" he taunted. "I thought you had gotten over that phase of existence after killing Angelus."

Buffy continued backing away, trying not to let his words bother her. She would stay and fight if she had to, but she really didn't want to.

"Look at you," he continued smugly, "no friends, no strength, no speed, no witty comebacks. What's left?"

Once Buffy had responded to a similar question saying "me," but she didn't feel that she could anymore. She didn't know who she was or what she was. And now it seemed like she would never get the chance to find out. She prepared herself to die at that moment. She had died before, why not again?

Fortunately for Buffy, her legs had other plans. Before she even knew what she was doing, Buffy was sprinting back to the cemetery, back to the safety of Holy Ground. Travers watched her go, knowing he would always get another chance. It wasn't like he would die of old age while waiting for her.

Making it back into the safety of the cemetery, Buffy wandered towards the middle of it, unthinking, just letting her feet guide her. Sinking down between two headstones, she curled herself into a little ball and began to weep. Her entire body shook with the sobs. She let the tears fall and mingle with the blood that was slowly drying on her clothes. She wasn't even aware of it. She was no longer aware of the cold either. All she could focus on was the pain of Travers' words and the truth she had found in them.

Eventually, she cried herself to sleep, still curled up in the fetal position. She was still like that when Adam found her the next morning.

* TBC *

Let me know what you thought and review.


	9. Breaking

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Breaking *

"Buffy," murmured Adam, gently shaking his girlfriend awake.

"Adam," she whispered, looking up at him.

"Why are you sleeping in a cemetery?" he asked concernedly.

Buffy just shrugged and rose to her feet. She really didn't feel like answering questions right now. She had slept due to exhaustion but it hadn't been a peaceful sleep. Nightmares of the dead had haunted her.

"Buffy, why are you covered in blood?" asked Adam, taking in her appearance. "What happened last night? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," replied Buffy wearily, wanting the conversation to just end.

"No, you aren't fine. You're covered in blood," he persisted.

"I said I'm fine; just drop it," Buffy growled back. She strode away from him, heading towards her apartment. Adam had to jog to keep up with her and was surprised that such a short woman could walk so quickly.

Misinterpreting her distant behavior, Adam began to apologize for their fight the night before. "I am so sorry. I never should have said what I said. It was mean. I just wasn't thinking. What I meant was that you have a keen fashion sense and that I am envious of it. Please forgive me, Buffy. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Do you forgive me?"

"Sure," replied Buffy nonchalantly. Frankly, their fight was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

"You're still mad?" he asked insecurely.

"No," sighed Buffy, "I honestly don't care anymore."

"Why? What happened?" he asked, hoping she would finally let him in. Although they had been dating for two months, there were times when Buffy was still a stranger to the Immortal. Every time he tried to get answers about her past, she would artfully change the subject. He eventually just stopped asking, understanding that sometimes there are things that are just too painful to discuss. Just because he stopped asking though, it didn't mean that it had stopped bothering him. Buffy was a mystery to him and in his experience mysteries could be dangerous.

But Buffy never answered him; she just kept walking, faster and faster, until she was nearly jogging. Adam jogged alongside her, watching her and studying her. He noticed the dark bags under her eyes and how tired she looked. He noticed how disheveled her hair and clothes looked. Mostly, he noticed how sad and defeated she looked. She did not look like the usually strong woman he had come to admire. He hoped that once they reached her apartment, she would tell him what had brought about these changes.

When they reached her apartment, however, she went inside and slammed the door shut before he could follow. When he tried to open the door, he found that she had locked it. So he did the only thing he could and began pounding on her door, ferociously, knowing that if she didn't open the door soon, he would break it down. Although they had both told each other that they were only looking for a fun fling when they began dating, he had grown to really care for her.

Buffy heard him knocking but didn't care. She collapsed onto her bed, too drained to even get under the covers. She wrapped her arms around her head, trying to block out the noise Adam was making, but she couldn't. After about ten minutes, he stopped. Buffy didn't know why and she didn't care. She was so weary but she was afraid to sleep; if she slept, she would dream. Instead she just cried.

The bed practically vibrated with the force of her sobs. The pillow her face rested on was soon soaked through with tears. She stayed like that for hours, only getting up once to use the restroom. While she didn't care about the snot on her pillow or about the blood that was rubbing into her sheets from wounds that had long-since healed, she did care about peeing in bed. She wasn't five.

Hours after Adam had left, Buffy was still lying in bed. She wasn't crying anymore. She was too exhausted to cry. She was simply lying there, staring at the wall, trying to keep her mind blank. That was when she felt the buzz. A part of her didn't care if it was Travers or not. She realized that she was continually going back and forth between caring if she died and not caring, but she didn't know what to do about it. A part of her was just too tired to keep fighting such an un-winnable war but another part, a more feral and hidden part, valued survival more than anything else.

"Open up, Buffy," yelled Duncan, pounding on her door. Buffy was glad it wasn't Travers but she was not glad that it was Duncan. She did not want to deal with her teacher right now. The "boy scout," as Adam called him, would want to be the chivalrous knight and fight her battles for her and she was done letting others fight her battles. So she ignored him.

He kept at it for about fifteen minutes until he was told off by a neighbor, the same neighbor that had scared Adam away. Before walking away, he said clearly through the door, "I'll be back."

Hours later, Buffy still lay in her bed. Her stomach hurt from hunger and she could tell she was a little dehydrated from crying so much and not drinking anything. She didn't care. Moving hurt too much. She had long-since unplugged her phone. Adam and Duncan had kept calling her. At first she just ignored the phone but eventually the incessant ringing had gotten annoying so she yanked the cord out of the wall, probably with more force than was necessary.

All she wanted was silence. But that silence had been interrupted not long before by Adam knocking on her door again. Again she had ignored him. Deep down she knew that she should open the door and let him know that she was all right but she just couldn't work up the willpower to get out of bed. She had tried to yell for him to go away, but her voice hadn't cooperated and all that came out was a crackly whisper.

All in all, Buffy lay in her bed for a day and a half, not eating or drinking anything and only getting up a few times to use the restroom. What finally snapped her out of her funk was an unwelcome dream. She had been trying to keep her eyes open and keep from sleeping for hours to avoid the nightmares but eventually her body overruled her brain and her lids closed. Instead of dreaming about the people she had let down, however, she dreamt about someone she hadn't seen in a little more than five years.

"Hey kid," said the balance demon, with his strong Bronx accent. "Still in bed, huh?"

"Whistler?" she asked confused. She knew she was dreaming but she didn't know why she was dreaming about him.

"It's time to get up, kid. You've got things to do," he urged.

"I'm so tired," she whined back.

"I know," he said regretfully, "but you aren't done yet."

"I'll never be done," she accused.

"You're right," he said softly. "You should never have become an Immortal. It isn't fair, but that's life for ya."

"Maybe I hate life then," she retorted.

"Maybe," he said, chuckling softly. "I can't stay long, kid. I just wanted to tell you not to give up or cut yourself off and to remind you that you still have friends and people to rely on. So, don't give up or cut yourself off. You still have friends and people to rely on."

After laughing softly, she pleaded, "So, what should I do?" hoping that someone had an answer for her.

"For starters, get of bed, take a shower, and eat something," he joked. Sobering up, he continued, "Then: fight. Everyone used to say that you were the longest living slayer but we both know that isn't true. I mean, you did die—twice! You are, however, the longest surviving slayer and that is something to be proud of. So, do what you've always done. Fight and survive. Don't give up. Get through this."

When she woke up, she found herself filled with a new strength and resolve that had been hiding before and she got out of bed. Although she couldn't forgive Whistler for the part he had played in the Angelus and Acathla debacle, she knew that he had been there to help her, just like now. She took his advice and ate something and then showered. She had forgotten how much better you could feel simply by being clean. She washed off all of the dried blood that had been caked on her body for a day and a half and she washed the grease out of her blonde hair.

After getting out of the shower, Buffy put on clean and comfortable clothes but not pajamas. She knew that if she put on pajamas she would probably end up in bed again and she couldn't do that.

Taking a few deep breaths, Buffy plugged her phone back in and picked it up. She almost called Adam but didn't think she was ready yet. Instead she dialed another number that she knew by heart.

* TBC *

You know the drill: if you liked it, please review.


	10. Catharsis

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Catharsis *

"Wolfram & Hart, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce speaking."

Buffy found herself smiling for the first time in two days. Had someone told her four years ago that hearing Wesley's voice would bring a smile to her face, she would have laughed until she passed out. "Hey, Wes," she said trying to sound chipper but failing miserably.

"What's wrong?" questioned Wesley, concern in his voice.

"Why do you always ask that?" countered Buffy.

"Because something always seems to be the matter," he replied. "So, do you want to stop playing games and tell me what the problem is, or do you want to continue playing games and we can play a rousing game of Geography?"

"Damn, you've gotten snarky," complimented Buffy, "funny, but snarky." Buffy almost thought she could hear Wesley shaking his head at her. Sighing, she launched into her story. Wesley listened all the way through, only interrupting when she told him about the crystal to say, "hmm, interesting." When she had finished, Buffy asked, "So, what do you think?"

"Well, I don't quite know what to say," he replied slowly. "It is nearly impossible to believe that Quentin Travers is an Immortal. I know the man—admittedly not very well but I worked with him."

"Wesley, I can assure you that he is an Immortal," she said. "I felt the buzz and everything."

"In that case," continued Wesley, "this could be a very big problem. Without your slayer abilities, you may not be able to beat him. Quentin Travers trained many potential slayers specifically for the reason that he was an expert in antique weaponry."

"I kinda gathered that by the way he was waving his sword around," contributed Buffy. "Even without slayer abilities, I can still appreciate good fighting."

"Well, that is because even without your slayer abilities, you are the still the Slayer," he reminded her. "The _Cruciamentum_ proved that."

"Faith's the Slayer," she told him keeping her voice flat and hiding all the emotions that statement evoked in her.

Choosing his words carefully, Wesley said slowly, enunciating every word, "Faith may be _the_ Slayer, but you are still _a_ Slayer. You are far more experienced and were Called before her or any of the other slayers that now exist around the world."

"Whatever," said Buffy weakly as she shrugged her shoulders. She was simply not in the mood to have an argument with him.

Sensing her reservations, Wesley let it go. "I'll look into it and get back to you," he assured her. "Expect my call."

"I will," said Buffy, starting to feel a little better just knowing that she was finally doing something about the problem, even if doing something meant delegating the something to Wesley. "Thanks, Watcher-mine."

After hearing the soft click of Wesley hanging up, Buffy lowered the receiver as well and mentally berated herself for calling Wesley "Watcher-mine." It had just slipped out. She hadn't meant to do it. Feeling a sob gathering at the back of her throat, Buffy slid down the wall. She could clearly remember sitting in the Sunnydale High School library and playfully calling Giles "Watcher-mine." He would always give her a half smile, the kind of smile that showed how much he liked the nickname but how much he didn't want for her to know that he liked the nickname. She missed that half smile. She missed him.

She missed all of the Scoobies. They had been her friends—her only friends—for so long. It hurt to be without them but it hurt even more that the pain had eased. When she had first gone to Seacouver, as much as she had enjoyed her new life, she still missed the old one. The longing for familiar friends and places became an ache in her heart that throbbed no matter where she went or what she did. Slowly though, that ache had dulled and although it still twinged every once in while, like it was doing now, most of the time Buffy was able to forget entirely about what her life had been.

It felt wrong just to push aside the years of history but she had been doing it. She was slowly replacing the people who had meant so much to her with new people. Wesley had filled Giles' role rather aptly. She used to run to Giles every time she had a question and needed help but now she just rang Wesley. Although he had been a watcher assigned to her, Wesley had only recently become _her_ watcher. She could also feel Adam, Duncan, and Joe replacing the Scoobies. They were her group now. But not hers in the possessive way the Scoobies had been. She had led the Scoobies. Here, Duncan was in charge. It was his group, his possession. Buffy found that she was all right with that.

Being comfortable with her new group didn't diminish the guilt she felt for leaving her old group. She hadn't even contacted them to see how things were going. Before she left, they had been talking about starting a new Council and she didn't even know if they had accomplished their goal.

Sitting herself down at her computer, Buffy began to search phone number directories. After nearly thirty minutes of frantic typing, Buffy finally found the number she was looking for. Hands shaking, Buffy picked up the telephone and dialed the number, praying that it was correct.

"Hello," said a tough, female voice into the phone. When the woman failed to get a response, she continued, "Listen, if this is some perv calling just to hear me breathe or some shit, I'm not interested, got it?"

"Hi, Faith," said Buffy laughing.

"B?" asked Faith.

"Yeah," replied Buffy, equally un-chatty.

"What can I do for you?" asked Faith after a long pause.

"I just want to know how everyone is," said Buffy, running her hand through her hair and trying to hold back tears.

"You coming back soon?" asked Faith, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

Not answering Faith's question, Buffy squared her jaw and repeated, "I just want to know how everyone is."

"Fine," said Faith. "Well, the Xan-man is in Africa collecting baby-slayers for the new Council."

"So, you guys set that up?" interrupted Buffy.

"Yeah, it's up and running and all," said Faith. "We still have some kinks to work out but it should be good soon. No prob. Um, Willow is in South America, Brazil I think, finding slayers and witches. She's trying to establish covens around the world for the Council to use so that saving the world with a spell will never fall on just one witch. Her words, not mine."

"Is she still with Kennedy?" asked Buffy.

"Nah," continued Faith. "Like right after we got the hell outta L.A., Kennedy left Red for some other slayer."

"No surprise there," interjected Buffy.

"Really?" asked Faith. "I thought it was a surprise. That bitch likes power and Red has more of it than anyone else. She practically runs the Council and is our most powerful witch. Anyway, Dawnie is living with Giles and Andrew in England. Your li'l sis is finishing up high school and then planning on going to Watcher-school or something. Andrew and Giles run a school in England that we set up for the little slayers."

"So, Dawn's doing well?" asked Buffy, needing to be sure that her little sister was all right and being adequately provided for.

"Yeah, she's fine," reassured Faith.

As Buffy felt the conversation petering out, she asked quickly, "What about you? Are you still with Robin? This number is in Italy, right?"

"Woah, woah," said Faith dramatically. Buffy could practically see her holding out her hands in the universal sign for "wait." "I'm good. I'm five-by-five. The American government gave me a pardon so I'm not on the run anymore. I'm legally out of prison now. I'm not still with Robin, though. Things were good for a while but then I realized what an ass he was. He's running the school in Cleveland. We send the more experienced girls there because of the Hellmouth. I was gonna stay and help him but he told me that he didn't want me around his girls because he thought I was a bad influence. So, I said, 'fuck you' and I walked off. Now I'm living the life in Italy. I don't run a school and I barely have any contact with the little ones. I lived with girls for way too long, if you know what I mean. They call me in for the big stuff but mostly leave me alone. How are you doing, B?"

"I'm … kinda unsure how to answer that," said Buffy honestly. "A week ago I would have told you that everything was great but not now. I have something going on that I need to deal with but really don't want to."

"I get that," sympathized Faith.

"I just needed to know how everyone was," reiterated Buffy. "Thanks, Faith."

"So, you're not coming back then?" she asked.

"No," said Buffy.

"I get it, I really do," said Faith. "I wish you were coming back. I miss you. G-d, never thought I'd say that to you. But it's true. Shit shouldn't have gone down the way it did back in Sunnyhell. You just take care of yourself, 'kay B?"

"Yeah, Faith," said Buffy, smiling at the concern her sister-Slayer had for her. "Bye."

"Bye," said Faith.

Buffy hung up and smiled. It had felt so good to catch up with Faith and to know finally that her friends were okay. She was still staring at the phone and smiling when she heard frantic pounding on her door. Sighing, she went to open it.

* TBC *

You know the drill. If you liked it, please review.


	11. Revelations

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Revelations *

The moment Buffy unlocked the door, it was pushed open. Duncan strode into her apartment closely followed by Adam and Joe. After glancing around and ascertaining that Buffy was physically fine, Duncan asked angrily, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Here," replied Buffy softly, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Why haven't you been answering the door or the phone?" he questioned.

Buffy just shrugged in response.

Seeing how distressed she was, Adam rushed to her side and drew her into an embrace. "We were really worried about you," he murmured into her hair, just loud enough for her to hear him.

Stepping back, Buffy addressed the three men in her apartment, saying, "I'm fine. Really. I just needed some time to think."

"About what?" asked Duncan gently, praying that she would finally open up to him. Since she had moved to Seacouver, he had known that she was withholding but, out of kindness, he had never pushed her to disclose her past. He felt that now was the time. She had been there for many months and he still knew nothing about her life before she became an Immortal, except for the few tidbits she had allowed to slip through. He knew that her mother had died of an aneurysm; he knew that she had been a cheerleader in high school; and he knew that she was pitifully bad at French. That was all he knew.

Buffy opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to answer him. Duncan had been so kind to her since she had arrived and she felt he deserved the truth, but it wasn't that easy. She was so ashamed of her past. Duncan was a Boy Scout, a White Knight—how could she tell him about some of the things she had done? What would he think of her? Turning to face the wall so that she wouldn't have to look any of them in the face, she responded, "I was thinking about being the Slayer."

"What?" asked Duncan, confused. When he looked at Adam, he saw a look of horror on his face. Joe simply looked resigned. "What's going on?" demanded Duncan. "What's a slayer?"

"Not _a_ slayer," corrected Buffy, still facing the wall. "_The_ Slayer. Capital 'S.'"

"Fine," blustered Duncan, "what is _the_ Slayer?"

Buffy attempted to answer but found that her voice was stuck. She tried clearing her throat, but couldn't seem to dislodge it. Adam saved her by answering in her stead. "The Slayer is a warrior who fights against demons, vampires, and all those bogeymen that the modern society thinks are just myths." Holding up his hand in a "wait" gesture, he continued, "Before you say anything, they are real. Very real. And very dangerous. That is why the Slayer is so vital. It is her duty to protect humanity from the more unnatural inhabitants of our planet. Thankfully, that doesn't include us. The Slayer is always a girl and is gifted with incredible strength, speed, and healing."

Buffy snorted at the word "gifted" and that gave her the strength to take over for Adam. "I wouldn't use the word 'gifted.' The abilities of the Slayer aren't a gift. They are more like a curse. Being called as the Slayer is a curse that promises death and pain and unimaginable torment."

Seeing that Duncan still looked confused, Joe stated, "Mac, Buffy's the Slayer."

"You knew about this?" asked Adam, glaring at Joe with a fury that would make even the most experienced warrior shudder. Joe involuntarily took a step back.

"Yeah, he knew," said Buffy, finally turning around and facing them. "I asked him not to say anything, though. I wasn't ready for you guys to know."

"How long have you been the Slayer?" asked Adam, refocusing on Buffy.

"Since I was 15," she responded. Taking a deep breath, Buffy confided in Duncan, Adam, and Joe as she had never done before. She told them everything … or almost everything. She left out a few of the more embarrassing stories such as the Valentine's Day she nearly gave herself to Xander and her brief foray into caveman culture. She told them about her first death at the hands of the Master. As she told them about it, she felt tears slide down her face. Even more than seven years later, thinking about the Master still evoked emotions of fear and hurt. She glossed over the story of Angelus, telling them the main points but not going into extreme detail because the pain was still too raw for her. She rushed through the Mayor, Adam, Glory, and evil Willow.

Several times as she was speaking, she saw Adam move to approach her, to comfort her, only to catch himself mid-step and retreat. She was thankful because she knew that if she allowed herself to sink into his arms, she would not be able to continue speaking and she needed to tell them about her life. They deserved to know.

She paused as she reached the year she spent battling the First, not quite sure of how to continue. After numerous deep breaths, Buffy steeled herself, staring at her feet, and told them about the war. It was by will alone she set her mind in motion. She didn't gloss over any details. She didn't leave anything out. She told them honestly about everything that had happened. She told them about each girl she had gotten killed and about each fight she had fought in. She told them about threatening to kill Andrew and she told them about burying bodies in her backyard. She told them about Xander's eye and she told them about Anya's death. She told them about her newfound camaraderie with Faith and her ruined friendships with the Scoobies.

Once the flow of words had stemmed, Buffy allowed herself to collapse, sliding down the wall to the floor, where she hugged herself, shivering despite the heat in the room. The room stayed silent for a whole minute before Buffy caught Duncan's eye and asked accusingly, "Why aren't you yelling at me? I lied to you and hid myself from you."

"Honestly," replied Duncan, choosing his words carefully, "I am still trying to absorb all of this. That was a lot to hear at one time."

Nodding at his words, Buffy silently reprimanded herself for not telling them sooner and for telling them so badly now. He should yell at her; she merited it. Realizing that she wasn't done yet, though, Buffy apologized. "I'm sorry but there's more."

"How can there be more?" asked Joe, horrified at what this young woman had endured in her short life. Although he had known that Buffy was the Slayer, he had only heard the cliff notes of her feats and the cliff notes left a lot out.

"There's the reason I was thinking about all of this," she said. With that, she detailed her meeting with Travers and the resulting conversation with Wesley. She told them about everything Wesley had done for her. She explained why she was an Immortal and about the Hellmouth's effects on her Immortal abilities, prompting Adam to remark, "So, you didn't become an Immortal the first time you died. I was thinking that you didn't look 16."

Ignoring Adam completely, Duncan asked, "So, you put yourself in seclusion to think about all of this?"

"Yeah," said Buffy.

"And what have you concluded?" asked Duncan, worried about his student. She may be one of the greatest warriors in the world but she was still his responsibility and he still cared deeply for her.

"I don't know. I spent a day and a half thinking and didn't get anywhere," said Buffy, chuckling lightly. Then, sobering, "I hate Travers and I don't want him to keep living. He has ruined so many lives, including my own. I don't want him to get my quickening. But," and here she paused, somewhat unsure of how to continue, "I don't want to keep fighting either. I am so tired and I'm not worthy of immortality. I sent little girls into battle and my reward for their deaths is long life. How's that fair? I think I deserve to die … to pay for my sins."

"No," interjected Duncan forcefully. "That's stupid. Everyone makes mistakes and has regrets but you don't need to die for that. You are a good person and you do deserve a long life. You deserve a second chance."

"What would you know about it?" sneered Buffy. "Your moral compass always points north. Have you ever gotten your friends killed? Have you ever sent young girls into battle completely unprepared? Have you ever done anything so horrible that it haunts your nightmares and makes it hard to breathe when you think about it?"

"He hasn't, but I have," said Adam, looking at the ground, ashamed of himself.

"What?" asked Buffy as all the steam left her metaphorical sails. Adam's soft voice had startled her and left her feeling off balance. "What do you mean?"

After hearing Buffy lay her life out for them, Adam realized that she deserved the same from him. While he knew it would be difficult, he knew that she needed to hear it and he felt the need to tell her. He had come to really care for the sometimes-ditzy Californian cheerleader and he couldn't stand to see her in so much pain. If his own pain could lessen hers, it was worth it. Spreading his feet apart as if to ground himself, Adam told Buffy of his life as Death. He stared at the ground throughout the entire thing and spoke in a monotone, careful not to let his voice betray the emotions he was feeling.

Buffy watched Adam as he spoke, impressed by his resolve. The things he was telling her about were horrible. Buffy could not imagine having to live with having done such things. Had she looked at Joe and Duncan, she would have seen that they both looked saddened by Adam's words, though not surprised as they had heard them before. But Buffy didn't look at Joe or Duncan. She only looked at Adam. She focused on him and shut her mind against everything except his words and his appearance. She realized how much he needed for her to hear this, all of this, just as she had needed to confide in him and Duncan. Experience had taught her that acceptance was a hard thing to find but that once one decided to pursue it, one needed to see it through. She knew better than to interrupt Adam when he was unclear on something and she stayed as motionless as possible so as not to distract him.

Finally finishing the story of his past misdeeds, Adam raised his head and looked straight into Buffy's eyes. "I know about guilt," he told her. "The guilt that you and I feel will never go away. But part of our penitence is living with it. The longer we stay alive, the longer the memory of those whom we hurt stays alive. Also, maybe we deserve a little punishment and what's a better punishment than having to remember all of our mistakes. Death is easy; death is an out. Living is the hard part."

Buffy was shocked by his speech. It sounded so familiar, so similar to the words she had spoken to Angel that one Christmas that felt like an eternity ago. At the time she had spoken those words, she had known that they were the right ones to say even though she didn't truly understand them. Now she understood them.

Buffy recognized that this was not the sort of speech one replied to with a trite "thank you" or "you're right." Instead, Buffy let the silence and the look in her eyes speak for her. She was certain that Adam understood.

Turning to Duncan, Buffy asked, "So, what do we do about Travers?"

"I'll kill him for you," replied Duncan without missing a beat. "After everything I've heard about the Council and this Travers fellow, I have no problem challenging him and taking his head. Unlike you, he's a bad person. He feels no remorse."

As tempting as it was to let Duncan take care of her and fight her battles, Buffy forced herself to say, "No. I appreciate the offer, but how can I ever get closure if I let you protect me from everything? I need to do this. I'm done letting other people fight my battles."

Before Duncan could respond, the phone rang shrilly. Buffy got up off the floor to answer it, not looking at Duncan in order to prevent him from arguing with her.

* TBC *

If you liked it, let me know in a review.


	12. Solutions

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Solutions *

"Hello," Buffy said into the phone, glad for the distraction and excuse to ignore the others.

"Buffy, it's Wesley."

"Oh, hey. How's it going?" Buffy asked.

"Fine, just fine. I have an answer for you," said Wesley.

"Oh, just wait one second. I'm going to put you on speakerphone," said Buffy as she did it. "I finally told Duncan and Adam about being the Slayer and since they know all about my unique problems, they should be allowed to hear the possible resolutions."

"Alright," said Wesley, his voice sounding unnaturally loud over the speaker. "Travers is using a crystal called a _hebescesaxum_. It's Latin. It means 'weakening stone.' The Council has known about them for quite a while. They were previously used to weaken the Slayer during her _Cruciamentum_."

"Isn't that nice," interrupted Buffy. "What? Was that before the Council got into New Age, homeopathic muscle relaxants?"

Wesley cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable, "Well, um, yes, actually. You see, they stopped using the crystal because it was difficult to make certain that the Slayer would be within its effects during the entire time of the test. Should the Slayer move too far away from the crystal, she would regain her abilities and the test would be ruined."

"So, what do I do?" asked Buffy. "No offense, Wes, but this info doesn't exactly help me overcome the obstacle."

"Just let me finish, Buffy. Be patient and stop interrupting," snapped Wesley, sounding extremely exasperated. Buffy could just picture him pinching the bridge of his nose and pursing his lips together in frustration; it made her smile. Duncan, Adam, and Joe just smirked at each other, each having felt the same irritation at the talkative blonde.

"I shipped you a crystal, Buffy," continued Wesley. "It should work as a blocking agent. The crystal, if worn around your neck, will absorb the energies of the _hebescesaxum_ and render them inert."

"So, it's like my lead to Travers' Kryptonite," interrupted Buffy.

"What?" asked Wesley simultaneously with Adam.

"Sorry," shrugged Buffy, "too much time with Xander."

"Yes, well," continued Wesley, deciding to just ignore Buffy's nerdy outburst, "just wear the crystal around your neck and you should be able to beat Travers. I mailed it to you overnight, so you should receive it in the morning."

"Thanks, Watcher-mine," said Buffy, about to hang up until she heard Wesley clear his throat again. "Is there something else?"

"Yes," said Wesley. Buffy could hear him shuffling papers around. "On a hunch, I decided to track Travers' past as far as I could. I found something interesting. Do you remember what I told you about the split in the Watcher's Council?"

"Yeah," said Buffy, looking pointedly at Adam and rolling her eyes. Did Wesley think she was stupid or something?

"Well, it was Travers."

"What was Travers?" asked Buffy, refocusing her attention on the phone.

"The Immortal who went around killing Slayers. In five months Travers killed seven Slayers. He managed to disappear right after the split and was never made to pay for what he had done. Looking back into some old files, I found his old Watcher's file. It says that Travers, or Nathaniel Wilkes as he was called then, killed the Slayers to prove to the Council that they weren't training the girls properly. In some ways, his attacks did help; the Slayers' training became more rigorous and the Slayers' life expectancy was increased by nearly six months."

"How did he get away with this?" asked Duncan, too disgusted to stay out of the conversation. "The Watchers should have had enough records on him to ensure that he didn't become a Watcher. What happened?"

"Hello, you must be Duncan MacLeod," said Wesley, polite as usual. "Well, since the split between the two branches of the Watchers Council was so deep and effective, only 100 years later Travers was able to take over the Council that dealt with the Slayers under an assumed name. It seems that no one was the wiser. I found this information about him in the branch that deals with Immortals. It seems that they have known about this the entire time."

"How did you get this information?" asked Joe, concerned for his organization's security.

"Ah, you must be Joe Dawson," mused Wesley. "It is a pleasure to make the acquaintance of a fellow Watcher. I only wish I had a face to go with the voice. Well, to answer your question, here at Wolfram & Hart, I have some resources that are unavailable to most people, including some of the best hackers in the world. I put one of my best—and most trustworthy—men on it. I made helping Buffy my top priority."

After hearing the affection in Wesley's voice and the obvious care that he felt for Buffy, Joe's concern melted away and he was left just feeling glad that Buffy had someone that cared so much about her.

"How did no one in the Council ever catch on?" asked Buffy, rejoining the conversation.

"Well," explained Wesley, "it seems that he would disappear every 30 years or so and return 30 years after that with a new name, each time managing to finagle his way to the top. Despite being quite a son of a bitch—pardon my language—Travers was actually a very intelligent man. Some of the research he did for the Council was quite brilliant."

"Still hate him," said Buffy, with a lopsided smile on her face. As different as Wesley was from Giles, it was times like these that Wesley reminded her exactly of her former Watcher. They both had a thirst for knowledge that would allow them to forgive almost anyone for almost anything in the pursuit of it. She liked that about them.

"Yes, well, you are certainly within your right to do so," chuckled Wesley. "I should be going. Angel wanted me to research something for him and I have not even begun yet. I will have to come up with some sort of excuse."

"Tell him you were throwing up," advised Buffy. "He can't get mad at you if you were sick."

"Buffy, I am not a high-school student attempting to get out of writing an essay," chided Wesley.

"Yeah," laughed Buffy, "like you ever tried to get out of writing essays in high school. I bet you used to write extra essays for your teachers as presents or something."

"Goodbye, Buffy," said Wesley, putting an end to the teasing.

"Bye, Wes," said Buffy, sorry to have to hang up so quickly. "I'll talk to you again soon. And thanks … for everything."

After hearing the soft click on the other end of the line, Buffy slowly lowered the phone into the cradle. Looking at Duncan, she grinned and casually flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Looks like I can fight my own battles again," she said jokingly. Although the statement was spoken in jest, Duncan recognized an intensity behind it. Buffy did not want him to fight her battles for her. She had had enough of that. She simply wanted support on the sidelines and Duncan was ready to give her that. With a slight nod of his head, he let Buffy know that he understood her.

After nodding back curtly, Buffy jumped up, back to her usual cheery, energetic, pain-in-the-ass mode and kicked them out of her apartment. "I'm tired and need to sleep. I will see you guys tomorrow. G'night."

X X X

The next morning, Buffy walked into Joe's bar with a spring in her step.

"Well, you look better," remarked Duncan, glad to see his student back to her old self. Seeing her so depressed yesterday had really unnerved and upset him.

"Well, I am a girl and girls love accessories," said Buffy flippantly. With that she pulled out the crystal she had received from Wesley that morning. It was a light pink, the exact same shade as the crystal Travers had. It hung from a leather thong and when the light caught it, it sparkled and shone. "Isn't it pretty?" she asked the amused men.

"Sure, it's pretty, but does it work?" asked Adam, who had been fairly quiet the day before after revealing his past to Buffy. He was worried. But not about Buffy keeping her head; he had complete faith in her and her fighting abilities, even without her super-strength. He was worried about the person. Although Duncan and Joe seemed perfectly happy to see Buffy acting cheery, he couldn't help but think it was façade. And the sad part was, she was such a good actress, she was even fooling herself. He had lived a long time and seen a lot of things and he knew that recovery was not that quick. It was long and hard and painful. He just hoped that when the reality hit Buffy, she wouldn't be hurt beyond healing.

Entirely unaware of Adam's feelings, Buffy shrugged and answered, "Won't know until I try it." Then, seeing his anxious face, she added, "But I have complete faith in Wesley. I'm sure he's right."

"Do you have a plan for how you will find Travers? Do you want help?" asked Duncan hoping that Buffy would answer "yes" to both questions. Although he'd been unable to teach her new fighting techniques, he was still her teacher and he hoped that he had imparted some wisdom to her. Having a plan could be just as important as the fight itself. It was key to be prepared. He also hoped that she would let him help her. Although he didn't know if she truly _needed_ help, he wanted to be there for her.

"Yes and no," answered Buffy, laughing when she saw Duncan's face fall at the "no." "It isn't that I don't want help, Duncan, it's just that this is something I need to do for myself. I need to see this through to the end by myself. I'm done having people fight my battles for me. And I'm not saying this to protect you," she said, cutting off his argument before he could even mount it. "I'm saying this to save myself."

Swallowing hard, Duncan fought back any complaints he might have made. Her logic was sound and he did not want to curb this independence and self-reliance she was showing. Moving ahead, he asked, "So, what is your plan?"

"I was planning to go back tonight to the cemetery that we met in. I don't know why, but I have a strong feeling that he'll be there. Call it slayer intuition, or maybe it's immortal intuition since this is more connected to that aspect of me, although it is connected to both," yammered Buffy. "Anyway," she said to cut off her flowing babble, "I'll just hang out there, you know, kill some vamps if I see them."

"Kill vampires? Tonight?" asked Joe incredulously.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "I'm done pretending that I'm not still the Slayer. I am. I always will be. It's my duty and I can't ignore it just because I'm tired of it. It's a part of me that will never go away."

There was a moment of silence as the three men absorbed that, each silently applauding Buffy. Acceptance was not an easy thing to achieve, especially from oneself.

"Until tonight," continued Buffy, resuming her playful attitude, "I just want to hang out with you guys and relax."

"No problem," said Joe, grinning. "I'll get you a beer."

X X X

Buffy got to the cemetery just as the sun was setting. Duncan had pointed out to her that she didn't need to wait until sundown; Travers wasn't a vampire. But it just felt right to Buffy. She spent her entire life in dark cemeteries. Just as Giles felt at home in a library, Buffy felt eerily at home in a poorly-lit cemetery.

She had only been there for maybe ten minutes when she felt the familiar buzz indicating that another Immortal was approaching. Tucking the crystal safely out of sight under her shirt, Buffy grabbed her glaive and went on alert.

* TBC *

Just one more chapter left.

If you liked it, please leave me a review.


	13. Survival

Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Survival *

"Hello, Buffy." Buffy whirled around to face Travers. He just chuckled to see her so on edge. He asked, "Shall we step off of Holy Ground? We can't very well fight on it."

Still silent, Buffy nodded her assent and moved to the cemetery's exit.

"All right, let's begin," said Travers. Buffy just shrugged and got into her fighting stance. "Why so silent? I was told that the Incredible Buffy Summers always had a witty quip. No quips tonight?"

"Not tonight," agreed Buffy. She wasn't feeling her usual self. As hard as she had tried to remain cheery throughout the day, she couldn't pretend any longer. She was afraid. Very afraid. Deathly afraid. This was different from the routine nightly battles with vampires. This was more like the battles with Angelus, Glory, and even the First. This was personal. This wasn't just the Slayer fighting the forces of darkness; this was Buffy fighting her own foe. She knew that she could win this fight. She was the Slayer after all. But she was afraid that she would win and that it wouldn't change anything. Buffy naively hoped that when she beheaded Travers, everything would stop. The pain. The heartache. The guilt. She hoped it would end but she knew it wouldn't. A part of her understood exactly what Adam had said. The pain would never go away and she just needed to learn to live with it. She didn't want to kill Travers and have everything still hurt. She had thought killing Angelus … Angel … would help, that if she didn't see him anymore the pain would ebb, but it didn't. It got worse. She didn't want this pain to get worse. She didn't know if she could handle it.

They began to fight. Travers took point and lunged at Buffy. This time she did get out of the way in time. She parried each of his blows and fended him off admirably. Each time he came at her, she responded, protecting herself. She had yet to go on the offensive but she knew that she had all the time in the world and was waiting for the right moment.

"You're doing well," said Travers, clearly impressed and surprised. "To be honest, I thought this would end quickly. I thought you'd be dead without the Slayer's abilities."

"Why are you so shocked?" asked Buffy. "I passed the _Cruciamentum_."

"That was a bit different," replied Travers. "That wasn't against me." He charged again and this time Buffy side-stepped him and brought her glaive down at a glancing angle onto his back. His skin tore and blood quickly soaked his shirt. It barely slowed him down though and Buffy knew that he would heal soon and be good as new.

"Much better than last time," remarked Travers. "What is your secret, girl?"

Instead of answering him, Buffy pulled on the leather thong around her neck, revealing the crystal. Travers eyes widened as he realized what she had. Angrily, he yelled, "That is not fair. It is not fair for you to use the Slayer's powers in an Immortal fight."

"Life isn't fair," shrugged Buffy.

Apoplectic with rage, Travers yelled, "This is not fair! I challenged Buffy Summers, not the Slayer!"

Striking him across the face, Buffy responded, "I finally get what Kendra told me so many years ago. By challenging me, you did challenge the Slayer because that's who I am. I am the Slayer. As long as I live, I will be the Slayer. Nothing can change that." Pushing him away from her, she continued, "I am done denying who I am, fighting my fate—I was only fighting myself all that time."

Taking advantage of Buffy's epiphany moment, Travers sliced Buffy across her right arm, forcing her to switch her glaive to her left. Although her arm would heal quickly, she knew that in the time it took to heal, she was at a real disadvantage. "You're better than I thought you would be," remarked Buffy, as she felt her quickening's lightning zigzag across her wound.

Laughing, Travers replied, "My dear, I have trained many potentials—many Slayers."

"Yeah," bit off Buffy, "so that they could fight for you and you would never have to get your hands dirty." She couldn't even look at Travers without feeling bile rise in her throat in disgust.

"Isn't that what you did?" asked Travers. "You took little girls and put them in the middle of a war. You got so many girls killed, and for what? There is another Hellmouth in Cleveland. You didn't change anything."

"Shut up," growled Buffy lowly.

"Ooh, shut up," taunted Travers. "You couldn't think of anything better?" Then his voice grew serious and cold, "I know why. Because you know I'm right. You sent those girls into Hell and they died. You killed them."

"No," said Buffy quietly, shaken.

Travers took the opportunity to charge Buffy again and this time he was successful. He stabbed his sword through her midriff and Buffy was reminded of the fight in the Hellmouth. "Pardon?" sneered Travers. "I didn't hear you."

"No," said Buffy a bit stronger this time. "No," she said more forcefully, standing up. "No," she yelled lunging at Travers and driving him back. "That is not what happened."

"Yes, it is," hissed Travers. "You can tell yourself that it isn't, but it is. Nothing you say can change that."

"You're wrong," said Buffy on the offensive, in their physical fight as well as their verbal fight. "I didn't send those girls into Hell."

"Oh?" asked Travers while deflecting one of Buffy's blows. "Then what did you do?"

"I led them into Hell. I am nothing like you." Buffy viciously slammed her elbow into Travers' chin, knocking him off balance for a second, giving her the chance to kick him in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. She could have taken his head then and there but she wanted to finish their "conversation." She needed for this to truly end. Killing him prematurely would leave it feeling unfinished and she couldn't abide that. "If I were like you," she continued, holding her glaive at his throat, "I would have sent them into the Hellmouth by themselves. But I went with them. I fought alongside them. Have you ever fought alongside a Slayer?"

"There was no need to," replied Travers, eyeing her weapon warily.

"How many deaths could you have prevented if you had just helped?" asked Buffy, with a pleading tone to her voice.

"That isn't the Watcher's job," roared Travers, bringing his blade up and pushing Buffy's away. Getting to his feet, he said, "That wasn't our job. That wasn't _my_ job."

"Why not?" questioned Buffy. "What did you have to lose? The Slayers have their lives to lose. You're Immortal. You didn't. Why didn't you ever step in?" Travers lunged and Buffy pushed him away like he was nothing. "I'll tell you why. Because you are a coward. You're a coward who is more comfortable letting little girls fight your battles than fighting yourself. I may have let little girls fight my battles, but they did it with me. They were never alone."

Travers grasped for something to dishearten Buffy and give himself the advantage. He could tell that Buffy was no longer discouraged and that she was regaining her strength. Once that happened, he knew he wouldn't have a chance at winning. He could not let his life end this way. Not at the hands of the most troublesome Slayer the Council had ever attempted to train. He could not let that bitch win. Trying to stop her, he said, "That doesn't change the fact that you got them killed."

"No, it doesn't," agreed Buffy. "Nothing ever will. But a friend recently told me that it is the guilt I carry that will keep me from ever becoming a monster like you. I'll live with the pain. You won't live at all. Let's finish this."

With that, Buffy lunged at Travers. He countered and their weapons met in the air with such force that they each felt the vibrations down to their shoulders. The sounds of metal clanging together filled the air, making it impossible to continue the conversation had either wanted to, which neither did. Buffy was floored by Travers' skill. When she was a teenager she had always assumed that Giles was the exception to the rule and that most Watchers did not have combat training beyond learning to point out the flaws of others. She realized then that they all knew how to fight, even Wesley when he first became her Watcher. They just considered themselves above fighting. As Travers had said: it wasn't their job. It was hers.

Travers clearly had practice fighting against foes who were immensely stronger than him. From the years of training Slayers, Travers knew how to compensate for his inferior strength and how to use her own strength against her. Even Buffy had to admit that the fight was much fairer than she had thought it would be.

Not letting herself get disheartened again by this realization, Buffy kept striking, hoping to tire Travers out and get him to lower his guard. The moment she saw a hole in his defense, she took advantage of it and buried her glaive in his abdomen. He gasped as blood came bubbling out of his mouth and pouring from the wound. He tried to strike Buffy with the edge of his sword but she easily batted his arm away. Unable to grasp his sword any longer, he dropped it and clutched his abdomen, feeling the blood ooze through his fingers, thick and sticky.

Falling to his knees, Travers knew that he was dead. He looked up at Buffy with fear. He tried to beg her to spare his life but his lips couldn't form the words. The only sound that came out of his mouth was that of blood gargling in his lungs and pushing up his throat and through his teeth. He pleaded the only way he could—with his eyes. He lifted them up to Buffy's, swimming with emotion, praying that she would show him mercy. But the Council didn't train Slayers to show mercy. His eyes only met Buffy's cold and uncaring ones.

Buffy felt no sympathy for him. This man had gotten so many girls killed and he didn't even care. Why did he think his life was so much more important than theirs? Without wasting another word on this man, Buffy raised her glaive and swung, lopping his head off in one swift move.

Seconds after his head hit the ground. The lightning storm began. Buffy arched her back as Travers' quickening slammed into her. She felt her hair lift off her neck as a strong wind blew across her body. She could feel the temperature rising and the sting on her face as a streetlamp exploded, showering her with broken glass.

When the lightning storm ended, Buffy collapsed exhausted onto her knees. She knelt there in the dark for about ten minutes before taking a deep breath and standing up. Picking up Travers' body as though it weighed nothing, Buffy threw it into a nearby dumpster, tossing in the head after it. After covering it with some garbage, Buffy walked away. It was over and that felt good. The pain was still there but it didn't feel as raw and she was glad to be alive.

She began walking down the street toward Joe's bar when she sensed something nearby. Stopping, she closed her eyes and let her Slayer senses do the job for her. Just two seconds later, she opened her eyes knowing that there was a vampire back in the cemetery. There wasn't any debate in her mind. She immediately turned around and walked back into the cemetery, glaive in her right hand and sword in her left. She was now an Immortal, but still the Slayer.

* The End *

Tha-tha-that's all folks!

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